Haunted
by jo taylor
Summary: Does Crews believe in ghosts? Will Dani dance with Charlie? Are these two things related? To find out read on. Rated M for later content.
1. Chapter 1

A/N I'm not quite sure what category this belongs in: romance, certainly, some hurt comfort later on, and then there's the mystery running through. I hope you enjoy this story whatever it should be classified as!

Haunted.

Jo Taylor

Chapter 1

Tidwell leaned back in his chair and enjoyed the brief lull in his office. Through his window he could see into the bullpen, a few detectives manned the desks, phones to their ear or eyes glued to computer screens. He liked to know his team were working hard; there would be no slackers in his department.

In the centre of that bustle was a pool of apparent calm. Charlie Crews. His desk was remarkably clear, especially compared to his partner's. Tidwell let his eyes move to the small woman who sat opposite Crews' tall frame. Even seated, the red haired detective could sometimes loom over his much smaller partner. Reese, as per normal, had her head down; papers piled high and a distracted look on her face. The Captain's gaze moved between the two again. Ever since they rescued Reese from that slimebag of a Russian assassin – and hadn't that caused some ruffled feathers in the upper echelons – his two best detectives had barely exchanged more than the words necessary to function in their job. The tension between them was spreading to the others in his team. He sighed, Dani sure as hell wasn't telling him anything, and Lord knows he'd tried to get out of her what was wrong. Truth to tell, they'd barely spoken either. She'd not been over since getting out of hospital, was barely civil in work and departed with tremendous speed at the end of each day.

Even as he speculated, he saw Crews lean forward as if to say something. Dani's head came up, eyes drilling into her partner's, and the man slumped back down in his chair without uttering a word. Damn, but it was abnormal, and it couldn't continue. Just having Crews quiet was unsettling. Everyone, he included, had become attuned to the random questions, the verbal musing that issued out of the man's mouth. And it was affecting their work. Time to put on his Captain's hat and talk to the pair of them.

He squared back his shoulders and began to rise. The phone on his desk rang insistently. Sinking back down in his chair with a hint of relief, he answered the phone, listened carefully while jotting notes, then set the handset back in its cradle. Oh he knew whom he'd send out on this one. With a barely suppressed grin, he headed to the door, hung his head out and yelled across the room for Reese and Crews.

Charlie was watching his partner do paperwork. Charlie could watch his partner do pretty much anything and be happy, or at least he could if she would just acknowledge he was there. He knew what the problem was, and he knew she knew there was a problem, what he was wondering right now was if she knew he knew what was bothering her so much. Too convoluted, he thought to himself. That was a never-ending question that could drive him crazy if he let it. He leant forward to attract her attention. And he got it, both barrels from eyes that blazed at him. He let it go, settling back in his chair. He'd get through to her, sooner or later, he had infinite patience when he really wanted something, and he really wanted Dani Reese back.

"You two, Reese, Crews, in here now." Tidwell's voice bellowed across the room at them. Heads came up, and then attention returned to screens and phones whilst their fellow detectives watched surreptitiously.

Tidwell didn't offer them a seat; instead he sat himself down and referred to the notes on his desk.

"Body up in the Hollywood Hills. Place called Emerich Hall. Realtor was about to show a client over the place and found the stiff in the ballroom. Ballroom, I ask you! Anyway, you two go check it out. ME is already on the way."

Reese turned and left, Crews was about to join her when Tidwell called him back earning him a suspicious glare from Reese.

"Sit," Tidwell said tersely. He swung his chair around to face the corkboard, then swivelled back to face Crews. "What's going on between you two?"

Crews' face was carefully neutral. So, Dani wasn't talking to her lover either. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or bad, maybe good for him, not so good for their boss. Whatever it was, this was between Dani and him.

"Nothing's going on, boss," he replied, a half smile on his face knowing he was annoying Tidwell no end.

"Doesn't work with me, Crews. I know you both too well by now. Give."

Crews didn't like to lie. Didn't mean he wouldn't for a good cause, and this was certainly a very good one.

"Give her time. It's only been a couple of weeks since Nevikov had his hands on her. You know what Reese is like; she's doing the best she can. She'll get there."

There was some truth to that, Crews knew. It wasn't what stood between them now of that he was pretty certain, but his feisty partner was still coming to terms with having been a captive. And she wasn't talking to anyone that he knew of. The shrink she'd been sent to see was tight-lipped, but Charlie knew his partner pretty well, or thought he did. She wasn't talking to 'anyone' right now.

"You two finished your little talk? Can we go now?" Dani stood in the doorway, foot tapping, her hand resting on her hip in a belligerent pose.

The two men exchanged a quick glance as Reese turned and left them.

"Look out for her," Tidwell said quietly.

Crews turned to watch Dani stride toward the elevators. "I always do," he replied just as quietly.

"Do you believe in ghosts, Reese?"

Dani turned her head slightly. Crews was sitting in the passenger seat munching an apple, taking large chunks and chewing enthusiastically. The question had come out of the blue after a good ten minutes of silence. She didn't like the silences between them. Though when she'd first been partnered with him his endless stream of consciousness had almost driven her to distraction, she now recognised that she had become used to it. His conversations might start out seemingly random, but there was usually something hiding in the trivia. She'd learned to listen over the two years they had been together - to listen and enjoy what he had to offer. And she had no idea how to get back to that without serious emotional damage to herself, and maybe to Crews as well.

"Ghosts, Reese?"

"Why the interest in ghosts?" she replied, wondering where this was going.

Crews took another decent bite of his apple, chewed then swallowed with obvious relish.

"Used to hear all sorts of stories about Emerich Hall when I was on patrol. Never got called there myself, outside our area, but the tales used to go around the station back then."

And he stopped.

Shit, Dani thought, he just knows I'm going to ask. He's sitting there baiting me.

"Okay, okay. What sort of stories?"

Crews grinned, then pointed ahead. The gates to a large estate stood open before them. A uniformed officer checked their ID before letting them through. As the car made its way slowly up the drive, Charlie filled his partner in on the house they were coming up on.

"The place was build back in the heyday of the movies, somewhere in the thirties or forties, I can't remember which. Built for Veronica Hall and her husband Stanley Emerich. She was headlining the movies whilst he directed them. The Hollywood royalty of their day. They'd been married about fifteen years when it happened. Cops got a call out to the house around three in the morning, an anonymous tip saying that someone had been murdered. When they got here, Veronica Hall was found dead in the ballroom, her husband apparently had vanished."

He took another bite.

"When they searched the house the next day, they found old Stanley hanging in the basement."

"So it was murder suicide?" Dani was pulled into the story almost against her will.

"You'd think that, right? But they couldn't find a cause of death for Veronica, and there was no way the husband could have hung himself. Ever since then the place has had a bit of a reputation." He paused, "Haunted," he whispered in her ear.

Dani hadn't realised he'd leaned so close, and the feel of his breath on her skin sent a shiver through her body. Thankfully the house was now coming into view.

More cars stood at the top of the drive, along with the ME's van. Crews and Reese got out of her car and stood staring up at the huge mansion.

From where they stood two long sets of steps circled up to a second level where the main house stood. And what a house! It sprawled out in all directions; huge arched windows and mad turrets gave it a Gothic feel like a house from a black and white horror movie – except the house was pink. Over the years the colour had faded somewhat, and here and there dark runs marred the clean lines. It was a fascinating nightmare of a building.

Dani looked over to see what Crews made of the place. He stood gazing at it, eyes wide and totally focussed - a hint of a smile on his face. Reese knew her partner was not acquisitive, he had all that money but things really didn't matter that much to him – mostly. He'd bought that huge house, but she understood his need for wide spaces and the view across the canyon. He'd bought himself fast cars, but that was a male thing more than how much it cost him. But he looked to be in love with the monstrous mishmash in front of him.

"Crews, lets go."

He was still in a world of his own. Gingerly, she tapped his arm to draw his attention, and immediately regretted it when his intent gaze met hers - the smile still on his face.

"We're here to see a body, Crews, not house hunting."

"You'd come house hunting with me, Reese? That would be fun, but I have a really nice house and I don't think Ted would want to move… there again, he's afraid of the coyotes. I wonder what he'd make of this place?"

"It's a prop from a very bad B movie, and anyway I thought Ted was in Spain chasing the eight year old? Now come on." Dani ran lightly up the right hand set of stairs and headed to the huge main door. Oak panelled, it hung on massive hinges and would have done MGM proud in its size and grandeur. One side stood open and she stepped into a massive hall that made Charlie's look like a broom closet. It was meant to be intimidating, and it did its job perfectly.

"Wow," came the soft exclamation from behind her. Turning, she saw her partner gazing up. She craned her neck to see what had his attention, and high above her was a painted ceiling of huge proportions with cherubs gambolling among fluffy clouds.

"Are they doing what I think they're doing?" Charlie murmured. "They are! Reese, will you look at that?" But Dani had already left her partner and begun to make her way up the stairs from where an officer was beckoning.

She heard his footsteps follow her up the marbled staircase and pushed ahead, not wanting him so close. Stupid to feel this way, she knew, but Charlie Crews had a way of getting to her and right now she was constantly trying to stay ahead of him.

Facing them at the top of the stairs was the entrance to the ballroom. Both detectives ignored it for a moment, their attention drawn to the realtor who stood a little way down the corridor her face pale above a smart suit, brilliant white shirt and blood-red high heels. Bobby stood with her, whilst a little further away, her clients were making their feelings known.

"Hey, detectives," Bobby acknowledge. "This is Ms Royston of Wells and Hall Realtors. She met the clients here at two thirty to show them over the building. Came up for sale a month ago with appointments to view starting today. The Brandons," Bobby nodded down the hall, " were the first on the list. The ballroom was first stop on the tour."

Reese stepped up. "Thanks. Ms Royston, what can you tell us about the house? Who had access to the building, anything you think might be helpful."

The woman looked up, eyes still showing shock. "The last owners contacted us about four weeks ago. They were downsizing." Her hand waved expressively at the large dimensions. "Anyway, they wanted it sold as soon as possible. We had the cleaning crews in over the last couple of weeks; it's a huge place. The cleaning supervisor had one set of keys and we held the others. They are kept in the safe unless needed. No one could have got in that way, I assure you."

"Did you recognise the victim?"

The woman shuddered. "No, no I didn't. She looked… so peaceful. I thought she was just asleep, a squatter, but when I touched her she was cold. So cold."

"That's fine, Ms Royston. Leave your details with the officer here in case we need to reach you."

Dani turned to see where Crews was. He was on his way back from talking to the couple. They compared notes.

"The Brandons saw the place on the internet. Very exclusive web site that you have to be a member of before you can even access the thing. Did you know you had to do that, Reese?"

"Didn't you?" she replied, thinking of how much his own place must have cost.

"You know I have no idea, Ted set it up for me." He stared into the distance for a moment, then looked down at her. "I wonder how easy it is to join," he said quietly.

"I'll look into it," she nodded. This was not the sort of house you could chance by, notice it was empty and turn into a squat. The house was far removed from the road, the gates were kept locked, and the high walls around the place ensured total privacy. No, someone must have known the place was empty and there were very few ways of finding that out.

She told him what the realtor had said.

"Cleaning crews, great. Well at least anything they find could be linked to whatever went on. The CSI team will be here soon, once the ME has pronounced. She's in there now doing her exam."

As he finished speaking the ME joined them in the hall. "Can't give you a cause of death yet, sorry. No wounds that I can see, though I'll be more thorough when I get her back to the morgue. Aged about forty, good health, clean. Clothes indicate money so not your average down and out. No ID and no purse nearby. Time of death between ten and two last night; it's hard to be more precise as the windows are wide open in there. You'll get my report tomorrow."

Reese headed into the ballroom, Crews at her side. The room was huge, with a high ceiling that made the space seem even larger. Opposite them, the far wall consisted of French doors that opened out onto a terrace. Even though the cleaning crew had been in just the week before, dust motes still lifted into the air to hang suspended in the late afternoon sunshine that flooded the area. In the middle of the floor lay the body. As the ME had described, she was not your typical down and out.

I hope you enjoyed that chapter, if you'd like to read more let me know.


	2. Chapter 2

My thanks to those of you who reviewed the last chapter, it's much appreciated – enjoy part two.

Chapter 2/17

Charlie felt the change in the air as he entered the ballroom. Now and then, when he'd been on patrol, he'd get called to houses where people had died. Usually messy, unpleasant deaths that were overwhelming in sight and smell. But occasionally they'd get called to something quieter, and he would feel a different sort of atmosphere. He'd never mentioned it to anyone, but he didn't think he was the only cop to know about a place without being told. Unhappy houses had a certain feel to them, as did happy ones. His home with Jen had been a happy one. They'd walked through the door and had looked at one another, this was it, 'this' was what they wanted. He shook is head, that was another life - history. He'd learned to turn that instinct off in jail, too much pain in those walls, but since he'd been out he'd begun to listen to it once again. This room felt…

"Do you feel it, Reese?"

"Feel what?"

Crews moved to the centre of the room and looked down at the woman lying there, for all the world as though she had just laid down and gone to sleep.

"She didn't fight at all. Why?" he murmured. The ambience he'd felt on entering the room was fading. It wasn't angry, or malicious, but sad and melancholy. And if he told his partner that she'd have him locked up!

"Crews, feel what?"

She was at his elbow now, looking up at him. He did this to her sometimes, fading out of the present and going who knew where.

"Has anyone checked the basement?" he said. Then he was running lightly down the stairs.

The basement was just as large as the upstairs. Sectioned off into utilities and play areas. A home cinema took up a large space, from there you moved into a room that held washing machine, dryer, storage cabinets etc. And further still, a storage area clean of everything save the still body hanging from the ceiling. A not so young man, smart suit and tie, greying hair, and glasses that had slid down his nose to perch comically at the end. Though there was nothing comic about the purpled features and bulging eyes.

"Better call the ME back, and get CSI to bring some extra help," Charlie stated, his gaze moving from the body around the clean swept area. Nothing; not a chair, not a box or ladder, no way for the man to have hung himself.

Déjà vu.

The rest of the day was an exercise in frustration for both detectives. No ID on the man either, fingerprints had been taken and were being run, but so far no hits. Reese had interviewed the head of the cleaning crew who had been adamant that he'd let his team in, had supervised and then locked up after them for three days the previous week. No one had entered the building or grounds that hadn't been authorised, at least on his shift.

Crews had driven up and around the hills surrounding the estate. There was no way to see onto the property, it was totally isolated. It was no wonder the house had got a reputation. After getting back to the office he'd phoned the realtor and asked about the house's history. Turned out that it had passed through six families over the last ten years. That was a high turnover for such an expensive property. She'd given them a list of prior owners and he'd started to search for current addresses, with little success. Money bred a certain sense of paranoia, and none of the owners were listed in the phone book.

Later that evening, Charlie sat in his kitchen staring at cold pizza. The house felt very empty now. Ted was still in Spain; Rachel was still touring and from her last phone call, enjoying herself enormously. Not that he begrudged her a moment of her time, but the house echoed with silence. He couldn't face inviting one of his playmates over, they suddenly seemed too young, or he was too old, he wasn't sure which.

Dani's face kept intruding into his thoughts; memories that made his heart rate rise. When he'd realised who had taken her, that she could be dead, something inside him had closed down. If it hadn't he'd never have been able to function with any clarity. It wasn't until he was standing in his orange grove, alive against all odds, that he'd let his emotions back in. And then he'd seen her coming towards him. Her face wreathed in smiles.

He could still feel the softness of her cheek where he had cupped her face, the strength of her arms where she had wrapped them around him. The smell of sunshine on her hair when he'd pressed his face to her long dark tresses. He'd held her carefully; with a tenderness he'd thought beaten out of him in Pelican Bay. And it had felt so right. She'd lifted her face from his shoulder and he'd been captivated by her eyes, her mouth, her spirit, everything that made her unique. She had reached up and kissed him. Gentle, welcoming and the world stopped. Until she realised what she had done and stepped back from him. He'd seen the panic in her face for a brief moment, until she had got herself under control. And he'd let her go, not wanting to distress her, to push too hard especially as they had an audience. A stupid move for which he was now paying the price. By the time they'd let her out of the hospital, Dani had retreated behind her barriers, making them higher than ever before and Charlie wasn't sure how to get through them.

He dropped the pizza slice and took his drink outside, wandering down toward the canyon. The air was warm, and above he could make out a few stars. It was a romantic night and he was alone. He thought about the ballroom and its setting. He thought about dancing with Dani under the starlight and wondered what she was doing at that moment. Certainly not thinking about him.

Back in the house he picked up the phone and dialled her number.

"Reese," came the terse answer.

"I'm hungry, and all that's in the house is cold pizza. Want to eat out?"

Dani looked toward the microwave that was currently heating a frozen lasagne. The thought of a proper meal was enticing, but spending time with Crews could be fraught with emotional pitfalls.

"I'm just about to eat, sorry." And then the microwave pinged. She grimaced knowing her partner had probably heard the tell tale sound.

There was a short pause, and then he said, "I'll be over in fifteen minutes, dress nicely," then put the phone down.

She stared at the receiver, wanting to call him back and tell him not to bother. No one got to boss her around, no one. Instead she went to her wardrobe and looked at the selection there. Half tempted to put on jeans and a tee shirt in defiance, instead she chose a little black dress that showed her figure to advantage. She'd think through the why of that choice later.

He kept her waiting.

When Crews arrived some half hour later, he was wreathed in smiles. She opened the door ready to blast him, but his obvious appreciation made her stumble. She was used to men looking at her that way, but not Crews. If she'd been younger, less in control, she was sure she would have blushed. As it was she nearly took a step back when he leant down and kissed her cheek murmuring, "beautiful" before stepping back again. It all happened in a moment, a moment that turned their relationship upside down. And then he was just Crews again, a cheeky grin on his face, a quirk of his eyebrow as he queried, "Italian good for you?"

He escorted her to the car, opening the passenger side for her. She glared at him; she always drove.

"We're not at work now," he said, obviously interpreting her look correctly. "My turn to drive." His hand landed gently on the small of her back, encouraging her into the seat. It felt strange to let him take control. She thought about rebelling, then capitulated, sinking onto the leather seat. Just let him gloat, she thought. But he didn't.

As they drove away, Tidwell let out a deep sigh. He'd come over to see if Dani would talk to him, let him back in to her life. And then he'd seen that exchange. The kiss on the cheek, the hand at the small of her back – proprietary gestures that she hadn't taken exception to. And she had on the little black dress that she'd worn the first time they'd gone out for a meal. A date he screwed up not five minutes in. She'd never worn it again. Slowly he turned the key in the ignition, he had a lot of thinking to do.

A/N I hope you enjoyed that chapter, there's quite a few to go. Do let me know your thoughts, or just that you – hopefully - liked it


	3. Chapter 3

A/N I'm trying to find a way to put a break between sections, if the one I'm trying this time disappears can someone please give me a hint as to what you use?! I'm trying dashes this time.

Chapter 3/17

"Why are we doing this?" It was Dani who broke the quiet between them.

"Why? I'm hungry, you're hungry and this restaurant does the best Linguini ever. I mean really, it is the best."

"That's not what I meant," she replied, glancing over at him.

He kept his eyes on the road.

Keeping his tone light he replied. "Let's call it a celebration then. I think we both deserve a treat, don't you? I escaped certain death at the hands of a Russian mobster, you…" The car speeded up a little as he put his foot down, a moment later dropped back.

"But we're not going to talk about that, right?" Dani said, pointedly. "We both got through that, we're both safe. It's over."

"Right," he said quietly.

Shit, maybe he needed to talk, Dani thought. She'd been so busy trying to tamp down her own memories that she had virtually forgotten that he'd been through this as well. He hadn't told her what he had done to get away from Nevikov, but he'd somehow got away from that monster and his cohorts with barely a scratch on him. Maybe his wounds went deeper, as did her own. If she could talk to anyone, it would be him. But not tonight.

"Not tonight," Crews said, as though he'd been inside her head.

She turned her attention to the road. She always drove, always. Control issues perhaps, she admitted to herself, but she knew she was a good driver.

He drove well, she had to acknowledge. The road was twisty and dark, yet she didn't feel unsafe at all. She'd spent the first ten minutes of their drive watching his hands on the wheel, reacting to every move, every lane change, as though he would have them on the hard shoulder or upside down. His 'do you want me to put a Zen tape on for you, help you relax?' finally made her realise how wound up she was. She'd settled back into the plush upholstery, and let him take charge – for now.

* * *

"Where are we going?" Dani asked suspiciously as they were heading back from the restaurant. They'd spent the evening talking about everything and nothing, avoiding anything to do with work. She'd felt herself relax for the first time in who knew how long. Crews was fun to be with, the meal had been as good as he'd claimed it would be and for a couple of hours she let herself forget what she felt for him, what she thought he felt for her and the impossibility of it ever working out between them.

"I want to check something at Emerich Hall. Won't take a moment. You can wait in the car."

She bridled then caught his half smile. He knew her too well. She smiled back, and his smile broadened into a grin, eyes dancing.

They pulled up outside the large gates, Crews leaned out and tapped in the access code on the pad and they drove though onto the pitch black drive way.

It was a long, eerie ride up to the house. The headlights brushed large shrubs and trees along either side, huge shadows leaped out at them. Crews' 'haunted' started to rattle in Dani's head. Ridiculous. And then they were there. The house was dark, the driveway treacherous to anyone in high heels, and she didn't have a flashlight.

"Glove compartment."

"What?" Even though she was used to his sudden, apparently unconnected utterances, this one caught her off guard.

"Flashlights, in the glove compartment. Want to hand me one?"

Was she starting to utter her thoughts out loud as well? That could get dangerous.

"Let me guess, you intended to come here tonight anyway, right? Or do you always carry two flashlights?"

She was sure she saw him wink, and yet he replied with all sincerity that he had been in the Scouts and was always prepared for any eventuality.

She slid out of the car and stood looking up at the building her flashlight making little impression on the darkness that engulfed them. Crew's steps crunched around to her side of the car, and he let the light from his flashlight add to her own. It still made little headway against the gloom.

"You're never going to walk on this," Crews stated, and slid one arm around her shoulder, the other under her knees, literally sweeping her off her feet.

"What the! Put me down, Crews. Right now, if you value your … oof."

He'd dropped her back to the drive and her ankle had immediately begun to turn as the stiletto sunk into the fine gravel.

"You okay? You did say to put you down."

Oh she was going to make him pay for this. She took a step forward and the other stiletto sunk into the driveway. Damn.

He wasn't going to make her ask was he?

Silently he scooped her back up, and deposited her gently onto the bottom step, his hands lingering for a moment on her waist, and then he was heading up the stairs.

Bright yellow tape criss-crossed the porch, but Crews ducked under it. The front door was locked, of course, but Crews suddenly sunk down by the lock.

"Oh no, don't tell me you haven't got the keys. Crews, what are you doing?"

His head was bent to the keyhole, his hand fiddling with something and then there was a definite click.

Crews stood up and dusted off his knees. "I had a very varied education in Pelican Bay," he replied, then turned the handle and pushed the great double doors open.

They creaked.

Just inside the door, a panel gave them access to the lighting system. The sudden glare from huge chandeliers made them both blink. Crews turned off his flashlight and stood it by the open front door. Reese did the same, then looked around her.

Inside, more crime scene tape was draped across doors and passages, indicating where the unit had been, and what was still to be attended to. The stairs, upper hallway and ballroom had all been cleared, so they made their way up the grand staircase. Crews took the opportunity to look at the ceiling once again. "Porno cherubs, who would have expected that?" he said, attracting Reese' attention. This time she looked up and began to laugh, a sound Charlie wasn't sure he'd ever heard from her before.

At the top of the stairs the door to the ballroom stood wide.

Creamy walls reflected back the subtle light from high chandeliers, giving the ballroom a soft glow. It was easy to imagine the room filled with revellers, dancing, laughing and enjoying the soothing ambience. It was hard to remember that there had been a body lying in the centre of the wooden floor just hours before.

Charlie stood looking out at the garden. He'd found the switch that lit the terrace, and beyond into the garden strings of lights led down leafy walks and skirted luxurious flowerbeds. What had happened in this building?

Behind him, he could hear the click of Dani's high heels as she circled the room. The last owners had taken everything out; no pictures on the walls, not a stick of furniture, just an empty shell. He drew his focus closer, and watched his partner mirrored in the French doors in front of him. Tiny even in her heels, petite in her build and yet she was as strong a person as he had ever met. She'd faced down Nevikov, but at what cost? There were still dark smudges under her eyes, and he could tell she wasn't sleeping well. Her temper, already on a fairly short fuse, seemed even more brittle. Charlie wanted to draw her into his arms and just hold her, make her feel safe again, if that were possible. He knew all too well how captivity made you feel helpless, how no matter how hard you fight it the will to survive seeps away.

"Why are we here, Crews?"

She had moved beside him almost without him being aware of her approach.

"I think this room could tell a million tales, don't you? What these walls have seen!" Crews gazed around him, a smile hovering on his lips.

"Sure, but how about what happened here more recently? Like who strung up the guy in the basement – what happened to the woman?"

"I wonder if they knew about Emerich and his wife? Where would you find that? Old movie buffs would know, but was it written up? Did someone write a book about it? Unsolved murder mysteries are good sellers."

Reese shrugged, "We can check that out tomorrow. It's getting late…"

Crews had opened the middle set of doors and wandered out onto the terrace and was standing looking up at the sky. She came to join him.

"This place was made for dancing," he murmured. "Do you dance, Dani?"

She felt a flutter of panic in her stomach. He'd called her Dani. Was he thinking out loud or had he meant that intimacy? And even if he was thinking out loud, is that how he thought of her? Dani, not Reese?

"I haven't danced since my graduation, so no, I don't dance," she stated emphatically.

"Dance with me?" he asked softly. He moved closer, caught her hand in his.

She looked up at him, trying to see what lay behind the request, still panicky that she was letting him close.

"We don't have any music," she managed.

"I'll hum," and he launched into a melodic version of Moon River, pulling her into his arms and slowly moving them in time to the music he provided.

She was stiff in his embrace, legs suddenly unwieldy. This was seduction she acknowledged. Not the sort of encounter she would indulge in or was comfortable with, an assuaging of her bodily needs in a satisfactory and anonymous trade was all she required. She could lose her soul to this man and that was terrifying.

"I thought I'd lost you. When I started tracking you I… I thought I'd find a body."

She pulled back from him. "We said we wouldn't talk about this."

"You don't have to talk, I can say enough for the both of us - you know that."

"Crews… Charlie, I can't." She shook her head. "I can't."

She would have stepped away then, but he pulled her back, expecting resistance and for a moment she did. Then, as though the fight had gone out of her, she leaned in and rested her head on his shoulder, which worried Charlie even more. His partner never gave in.

"Talk to me, Dani, as much or as little as you want, but talk. Anything. I'll understand, you know that right?"

Oh she did. She was aware there was little her partner wouldn't know about the terror of being a captive. Even though she had been sure he'd find her, she hadn't been so sure it would be in time.

They were still swaying to an unheard tune with their arms wrapped around one another - it was a surreal experience. Just yards away they'd stood over a dead body, now they danced in the moonlight. And yet she felt totally safe. Charlie was a solid wall on which to lean, a mass of contradictions that made a whole that she trusted implicitly. Maybe it was time to talk.

To put off the moment she asked the question she had been simmering over for the past two weeks.

"How did you get away from Nevikov?"

There was a moment of stillness, a soft sigh of resignation.

"Did you kill him?"

"I did." There was no satisfaction in his voice, just the echo of inevitability.

"You wouldn't have had any other choice," she said, tightening her arms around him. Somehow the quiet of the night, the ambience of this house even with its history, made it easier to let go and let down her barriers, just a little.

"I know, I know."

Dani knew what her partner was capable of, that didn't mean he got any satisfaction from it. He was a realist, his lessons learned in a hard school. Survive by any means. And he was more protective of her than himself. Seeing him standing in the orange grove was the best moment of her life.

"You won't do that to me again, will you?" Dani released her hold on him, her hand coming up to turn his face to her.

He smiled. "I promise, so long as you don't get yourself in that kind of mess again. Deal?"

"Deal," she returned his smile. Maybe this would work; maybe she really could talk to him.

His head bent, eyes on hers asking permission.

Reaching up to him, their lips met. Passion flared.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4/17

The scream tore through the night shattering the peace. They sprung apart and turned to the house. The scream came again. As one, they raced back inside.

"Gun?" Charlie shot a glance at his partner. She shook her head. She'd dressed for a dinner date, not a crime scene.

"You?"

He grimaced, shrugged a no then produced his knife.

Although Dani had given him back the weapon, she hadn't realised he still felt the need to carry it at all times. Her eyes glanced from the wicked blade to her partner's still face and nodded.

Reese kicked off her shoes; creeping round the house in high heels wasn't an option. Together they left the room.

"We stick together on this, my knife is no arsenal."

Dani quickly turned and picked up one of her stilettos. The heel was a work of art, and, wielded correctly, as dangerous as an ice pick. She raised her eyebrows at him, and watched as he assessed the situation. He was back in work mode she realised. The charming romantic who had held her in his arms a few minutes ago was gone; in his place was the intelligent survivor who had got away from Nevikov unarmed and alone.

He took a quick step toward her, removed the shoe from her grasp and handed over his knife.

"You can do more damage with this," he said quietly. "Turn the light on from the bottom of the stairs, your eyes will be adjusted by the time you reach the top."

The scream had sounded as though it had come from the floor above them and there was a stairway at either end of the corridor leading up. They separated, Crews heading to the right hand flight, Reese to the left.

Crews took a quick look behind him as he flicked the switch on his staircase. Dani had just turned on hers and was heading up the stairs. He hefted the shoe, adjusting its weight in his hand then headed up to the next floor.

Poking his head cautiously around the riser, he could see the full length of the corridor. Up here the carpet was a rich burgundy, the walls a soft yellow that gave the whole place a rich opulent feel. Along one wall ran a series of four doors, widely spaced. He supposed this would be the master bedrooms, dressing rooms etc. The doors were all closed.

He waited, a minute, two, no sign of his partner. The corridor was deathly quiet; the only sound he was aware of was that of his own breathing. Where the hell was she? He held back the temptation to call out for her. What if she had reached the floor first and had been caught by whoever had screamed? - or whoever had caused that scream.

Edging forward, he tested the first door. The handle turned easily as though recently oiled. He pushed the door open a fraction; the room inside was pitch black. Carefully he slid his hand inside and felt for the switch, moving out of the doorway as soon as he saw the lights come on. Not a sound came from inside. Crouching down, he eased the door further open and took a quick look. Empty.

Creeping along the corridor, Charlie checked each room with the same result. In his mind echoed one thought 'not again, not again, not again'. With just one room to go there was no sign of Reese, no sign of who or what had screamed. His hand reached for the last handle and suddenly the lights went out.

* * *

Dani took the stairs carefully, Crews' wicked blade held in front of her ready to strike if necessary. Half way up she thought she heard a noise. Stopping, she tried to ease her breathing, listening hard for a repeat of the sound.

It came again, a soft sighing sound but she couldn't pin point its location. Was it ahead or behind her? Was it Charlie already in the corridor above? She hesitated then took a few steps back down to the lower corridor. All was clear. She moved to the rail and looked down into the foyer below, scanning for a possible cause – nothing. Then the sound must have come from above. Quietly she started her ascent again, senses tuned to any sound or disturbance.

Without warning the lights went out. Dani froze, and then something rushed past her so close she lost her balance. With no light to guide her she flung out her hand, Charlie's knife caught against the wall even as her foot slipped from under her sending her tumbling.

It felt like she had caught every step on the way down, sharp edges dug into her arms and legs and finally her head came up against something solid and she remembered nothing else.

* * *

Crews heard the sound of something falling off to his left. The stairs? Dani? He called out, getting no reply. The corridor was pitch black; shoving his partner's stiletto into his jacket pocket Charlie groped his way to the wall, his hand sliding up and down searching for a light switch. Agonising minutes later he felt the switch under his fingers and flicked it. Nothing happened. Charlie didn't swear often, but that didn't mean he couldn't be fluent when challenged. He gave a master class in the moments that followed as he carefully made his way along the wall. Suddenly there was nothing under his foot; he'd found the stairs.

With one hand against the wall for balance, Crews made his way slowly down the carpeted stairs, his footfalls virtually silent, until he struck something soft eliciting a moan from the object.

"Reese? Reese?" He crouched down, hands feeling forward until he reached obvious female flesh. A rapid exam showed him that his partner was lying at an awkward angle against the wall. Quickly he searched for his cell, the screen light a feeble blue in the darkness. In the brief time it stayed alight, he shone it on her face. Her eyes were closed, her breathing seemed okay and yet he didn't like the look of the way she was twisted. Something broken? The screen died, and he pressed the button again and made to dial out. No Signal flashed at him and he gritted his teeth.

"Don't go anywhere, Reese. I'll be right back," he muttered, then he was edging his way down the stairs, along the lower hallway until he reached the wider stairs leading down to the lower hall and front door. He could just about make out the open front door, a slightly less dense darkness than that of the huge foyer. Beside that, he knew, stood the flashlights.

Moments later he was rushing back up the stairs to where Reese still lay, though now she was obviously awake and in pain.

"Crews?"

"Right here," he replied, dropping to one knee beside her. "Stop moving, you might have broken something. Reese, Dani stop…"

Dani had already swung herself around and was now sitting, elbows on knees holding her head in her hands. "What the hell happened?"

"You tell me," Charlie replied. "I got to the top floor, you didn't make it. I got near the end of the hall and the lights went out, then I heard you."

"Someone passed me in the dark. Couldn't tell who, just a rush as they went by and I lost my footing."

"Which means there has to be two perps involved," Charlie said quietly.

"Someone pulled the fuses?" Dani replied.

"Seems so. The lights are out all over the building. I need to get you to a doctor. Let's go. My phone won't pick up a signal out here, so we're on our own. Once I get you seen to I'll get back up and we'll come search this place top to bottom."

Charlie saw her bridle even as he mentioned doctors, but he didn't care. He'd lost her once and he wasn't taking any chances with her this time. No one got to hurt his partner; someone was going to pay.

She let him help her up, protesting every inch of the way, then complained when her ankle gave way.

"Hold this," Charlie ordered, shoving the flashlight into her hands, and for the second time that night he swept her up into his arms.

"Put me down," she growled. "Crews, put me down this instant!"

"We've had this conversation, Reese, the answer this time is no."

"Detective Crews, I'm your superior office and you'll damn well do as you're told. Now put me down!"

Charlie strode on taking no notice of his partner's ranting. "Shine the flashlight onto the stairs or we'll both need treatment."

From close to his ear, Charlie heard the distinct growl that he associated with his partner and frustration, and smiled. The beam from the flashlight lit the stairs enough so that he made his way down with relative ease.

Within moments he'd got her out to the car, propped her up against the door then helped her slide into the passenger side. By now her face had paled and she winced as he eased her down onto the seat. About to go around to the driver's door, her voice stopped him. "Crews, my shoes!"

For a moment his mind went blank, shoes?

"Crews they cost me a hundred bucks, I'm not leaving them here."

Charlie heard the words and understood the meaning. She wanted control over something this night, even if it was only his retrieval of her shoes. He'd give her pretty much anything, and fetching her stiletto was a small price to pay to get her to the hospital.

He handed her the one that had been in his pocket then turned and ran back into the house. It took him a few moments to find the other discarded shoe, and then he was back.

She'd managed to get the one shoe on, but it had taken its toll. When he sent the beam of his flashlight onto her, he could see she had her bottom lip in a tight grip between her white teeth. Without a word he carefully slipped the other onto her bare foot, his fingers gentle. She felt so damn fragile, so tiny that his fingers circled the soft skin of her ankle with room to spare.

He drove fast, one eye on his cell until it picked up a signal. Calling in what had happened, he let his mind go over what had occurred that night. Was someone camped out in the house? The CSI hadn't been all over it as yet, and it was a huge building. Had whoever attacked Reese that night been responsible for the deaths? More than ever Charlie wanted to search the building, look into the previous owners, check out the web site and who had access. But most of all, he wanted Reese well and by his side again.

Glancing across at Dani, Charlie noticed her eyelids beginning to droop.

"Dani? Dani, talk to me. You can't sleep, not yet. Dani?"

He took one hand off the wheel and pinched her arm, hard.

"What?" she mumbled.

"Gotta keep awake, Dani. If you have concussion you can't sleep, okay?"

Her voice was indistinct as she tried to answer him.

Crews floored the accelerator, sending his car flying down the road. At every opportunity he talked to her, touched her, shook her and with every passing moment his fear grew. Hitting traffic he set the sirens blaring, weaving through traffic like a man possessed. Calling ahead, he notified the hospital that he was coming in with a possible head trauma.


	5. Chapter 5

I am in a happy and generous mood today, having just returned from seeing DL in The Misanthrope ( 3rd row – sigh). To that end, here's chapter 5. Enjoy!

Chapter 5/17

The next hour was a blur to Charlie. He had a vague recollection of carrying Dani into the Emergency Room, of having her taken from him by the staff, her shoes being discarded and given into his care and then not much more as all that had happened just weeks before began to run in his head like a movie on loop.

Tidwell found him standing in the corridor, Dani's stilettos clasped in his hands like a religious relic, staring blankly at a closed emergency room door.

"What the hell happened, Crews? How'd she get hurt?"

Crews lifted his head, focussing on his boss. With obvious effort he dragged his thoughts back to the present and gave Tidwell a succinct, if edited, version of the evening - ending with the surmise that there had to have been two people involved.

"I've got men on the ground out there right now searching the building, so far nothing." Tidwell paced back and forth, one hand skimming over his hair in an unconscious gesture. "You didn't see anything, anything at all that made you think you weren't alone?"

Charlie's voice was cold as he turned to his superior. "You think I'd have gone there unarmed if I thought there would be any danger? You think that I wouldn't have turned us right around if I had any idea Reese would get hurt?"

In Tidwell's mind he saw again the possessive gesture of Crews' hand on Dani's back, the way he'd kissed her cheek. No, Crews wouldn't knowingly put his partner in danger, but that didn't answer the question of why they were there in the first place.

Before he got a chance to ask, the door opened and a tired looking medic came out.

"One of you Crews?" he asked.

Charlie took a step forward.

"Right, well she's awake but groggy. Got some minor cuts, a lot of bruising and a twisted ankle. She was lucky. We're keeping her in overnight for observations, but all being well she'll be up and out tomorrow. She'll need to keep off the foot though, so unless necessary she puts it up, no driving, minimal exercise for a few days at least. Oh, and she wants to talk to you. Don't keep her too long, we need to move her to a room." With a brief nod, the doctor headed to the room next door and his next patient.

Charlie hated hospitals. Hated the smell, the sound and the memories they brought back. While he'd been in the corridor waiting, he'd done his best to ignore the bustle and the noise, the moans and cries. The aroma of antiseptic and blood was a mix he'd never got used to.

Aware of Tidwell's presence at his back, he filled his pockets with Dani's shoes and took a step forward pushing the door wide. Immediately the smell hit him and he paused, closing his eyes.

"Breathe, just breathe," he murmured, then opened his eyes to find his partner watching him carefully.

She looked small and delicate in the hospital gown. Bruises were already forming, leaving splotches of dark colour on her arms. He guessed that the rest of her was similarly damaged; she must hurt everywhere he mused.

"Crews, you okay?" Reese was frowning now.

The nurse fussing at the head of the bed gave him a quick professional glance, assessing if he were about to faint and make her day even more busy.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine," he replied, then moved to her side. His hand reached for hers where it lay on the bed, fingers curling gently around hers. His gaze was locked to where their hands entwined, mentally holding his breath as he waited to see if she'd draw back.

Her fingers tightened on his. "Crews, this was not your fault." Her tone, harsh and low, made him raise his eyes to meet hers. "Crews, you're not listening to me."

"I am. Worrying about the past doesn't change what happened."

"Then what's wrong?" Dani didn't need to be told he was worried about her, the caress of his fingers was telling her that, but something else obviously held him hostage at that moment.

He gave an uncomfortable twitch of his shoulder. "Hospitals," he replied briefly.

She'd read his file, knew how much time he'd spent in infirmaries and how many injuries he'd suffered. No wonder he didn't want to be there. Well he could do them a both a favour.

"Get me outta here, Crews?"

He shook his head. "No. The doctor wants to keep a check on you, so you're staying here. I'll stay with you, if you want, or Tidwell is outside."

Reese glared at her partner, when had he become so unmovable? Though if she thought about it, he could be the proverbial brick wall when he chose, and he'd obviously chosen to stand his ground on this. She pulled her hand away from his, and immediately felt the loss of his warmth. She'd have to deal with Tidwell at some stage, but right now her full attention was on Charlie Crews.

"Ice packs," Charlie said, startling both Reese and the nurse. "You'll need ice packs for the swelling." His hand slipped down to her exposed ankle that was puffy and red. His fingers trailed lightly across the skin, eliciting a hiss from Dani. "Ice packs," he reiterated.

"Look, if you won't bust me from here then at least tell me what's going on."

"Tidwell's got men searching the house and grounds, the CSI team will go back in the morning. I'll go out there first thing and take a look for myself. There's something odd about that house, Reese. I need to talk to some of the previous owners."

Dani snorted, setting her head to aching even harder. "You're not still on about ghosts are you, Crews?"

Well, maybe it was time to see if she would lock him up.

"You ever walked into a room, a building and know what happened there moments before, Dani? I'd get called out to places and I'd know, just know that the place harboured evil - for want of a better word. I think most cops get that feeling after a while. Maybe its just experience, maybe not, maybe it's the famed sixth sense that people talk about and maybe it's something totally different. I felt something when I walked into that ballroom for the first time. Nothing bad though, nothing harmful." He shrugged. "Maybe the place 'is' haunted."

Dani was quiet for a moment; she didn't like to admit it, but she had also felt things on entering certain places. Not often, and not strongly, but yeah, she could relate a little to what Crews was saying. That didn't mean she believed in ghosts though.

"Hey, can I come in?" Tidwell, having waited for what has seemed forever in the corridor, poked his head around the door ending the private conversation.

"I'd best go," Crews said, starting to back out of the room, only to be called back by Reese.

"My shoes?"

He grinned, pulled out the stilettos and laid them beside her on the bed.

* * *

Charlie lengthened his stride along the corridor, and burst out into the warm Los Angeles night. Standing outside the doors, he took a deep breath of car-polluted air and thought it heavenly. Closing his eyes he drew another, deeper breath, trying to banish the remnants of antiseptics and blood that had permeated into him.

Dani was safe, if bruised and battered. Tidwell would look after her tonight. It had taken every ounce of Charlie's will power to turn and walk away from her. But if he'd stayed he would have been tempted to draw her into his arms and just hold her. Holding her hand was the closest he was going to try and touch her. He knew his partner, knew that the least hint of sympathy or concern would put her barriers up so high he'd never scale them. He was leaving that to Tidwell. His mouth twitched in suppressed humour. Tidwell really didn't know Dani as well as he thought he did, at least not in any sense that mattered. Charlie could understand the need for barriers, though he'd done his best to tear down his, at least with some people. Self-preservation kept some firmly intact, but for Dani he'd gladly lower them all.

Sighing, he headed to his car, amazingly still where he left it, the lights still flashing. Sliding in, he looked across at the passenger seat and saw for the first time the bloody stain where Reese' head had rested. His hand clenched tightly on the wheel, then relaxed. It was past; she was okay; now he had to find the bastard who'd hurt her.

Pulling away from the parking lot, Charlie headed home to research the house, the owners and anything else that he could that might give a clue as to what was going on at Emerich Hall.


	6. Chapter 6

This story seems to have been wiped from the Life listing for some reason, though if you look for me, the author, you can get it that way. Explains why there have been no more reviews I suppose?! I'm hoping by posting this next chapter it gets back where it ought to be, if not I'll have to get in touch with TPTB and see what's going on.

For those of you who have been kind enough to keep reviewing, and those just finding this story, enjoyg

Jo Taylor

Chapter 6/17

By the time the sun came up, Charlie had a list of names and addresses. Some of the previous owners were no longer in California, one couple were travelling in Europe and out of communication, another had transplanted to the East Coast, one had died just the year before but he had addresses for three others including the previous owners. Checking his watch he realised it was probably too early yet to go knocking on these peoples doors, so he headed for the shower and laid down on his bed for a five minute catnap.

An hour later the phone woke him.

"Crews, you've got to get me out of here. Tidwell won't give me back my clothes, the doctors are a bunch of morons and want to fill me with pain killers, and I really, really need to get out of here!"

Dani's voice had been steadily rising; his partner was losing it big time, which told Charlie an explosion was probably imminent. Still half asleep, he mumbled, "Okay honey, just give me time to get some clothes on." Putting the phone down Charlie suddenly snapped awake. Oh shit, he was going to get it for that endearment, ah well, too late to worry about it now.

Thirty minutes later he was back at the hospital and heading to Dani's room, an overnight bag in his hand. From down the corridor he could hear her voice yelling at someone, then Tidwell's slightly less strident tones obviously trying to placate her. A doctor stood outside the open door a bored expression on his face.

"Hey, doctor, can I talk to you please?" Charlie called the man over. "I'm Ms Reese' partner, can you tell me what is going on in there?"

"You're her… ah, well, sorry I got the wrong impression. Ms Reese wants to discharge herself, her boyf…"

"Boss," Charlie supplied, ignoring Dani and Tidwell's connection.

"Right, her boss wants her to stay. As you can hear, they don't agree."

Charlie listened for a moment, glad that it was Tidwell not himself getting the tongue-lashing.

"Is she in any danger, doc? If she leaves now is there likely to be a relapse of any kind?"

Whatever Dani might want, Charlie was not going to endanger her health.

The doctor pursed his lips. "No, I doubt it. We did another scan this morning, everything seems to be okay, but I would have liked to observe her for a few more hours, just to be sure."

The sound of something hitting the wall drew both men's attention.

"Are you sure about that?" Charlie asked softly.

Tidwell backed out of the room at that moment, turning frantic eyes along the corridor and seeing Charlie and the doctor.

"Will you please talk some sense into her!" he pleaded, though which of them he was addressing Charlie wasn't sure.

He took it to be himself and headed along to the open door, poking his head around the door jam and grinning at his disgruntled partner. "Is it safe to come in?"

Dani was sitting on the edge of the bed, face flushed and eyes snapping. Charlie had never seen his partner really lose her temper; it was pretty impressive he had to admit.

"You took your time. Get me out of here, Charlie. Right now."

Eyes dancing with mischief, ego inflated that she had unthinkingly called him Charlie; he entered the room and grinned at her. "It's true, which is quite amazing."

"What are you talking about? I'm really not in the mood for your mental ramblings right now."

His face relaxed and a tender look entered his eyes. He moved close to her, making her look up at him. "You really are beautiful when you're angry," he said softly. Then, before she had time to ward him off, he had leaned in to press a gentle kiss against her open mouth.

He'd backed away before she had time to react, throwing the bag onto the bed. "I've brought you some of Rachel's things. They might be a bit big, but she's not going to miss them. Get dressed and I'll take you home."

She was silent for a moment, and she watched his face change to one of concern.

"Thanks," she said quietly, realising just how much she had been relying on his answering her call. And he must have been tired. Looking at him in the harsh overhead lights she noted that he hadn't shaved since the day before and a definite five o'clock shadow darkened his jaw. His eyes were their usual sparkling self, but his whole body seemed less vibrant.

Since her rescue she'd found herself watching Charlie Crews. Her partner had a vibrancy about him that drew her, albeit unwilling at first. He moved with an athletic grace that reminded her of a big cat. And she was very aware of him as a man, not just the intelligent partner with whom she sparred. She'd watched other women note him, and show more than a little interest. She'd avoided that, or at least she thought she had until she'd seen him in the Orange Grove and had wanted nothing more than to drag his mouth to hers and kiss him senseless. She'd put it down to the relief of his still being alive, but now she had to admit it went far deeper than that, and that scared her. With Charlie it would be all or nothing; give everything to him and accept everything in return, or walk away for good. She looked down at the bag he'd brought for her and sighed.

* * *

Crews rang the bell of the huge Bel Air house. He'd phoned ahead and they opened the large gates on his arrival. The place was larger than his, but not quite as big as Emerich Hall. Laid out in the Spanish style, it was a welcoming mix of reds and yellows that had mellowed over the years. Glass sparkled in the sun and Charlie was glad of his shades.

The door was opened by a very correct personage who ushered him into a huge room that opened out onto the garden. White leather sofas were scattered about, piled high with ethnic cushions to break the clinical gleam. A man rose to greet him. In his forties, maybe older, he was as tall as Charlie, though more broadly built, and had a shock of dark silver peppered hair. A strong hand reached out and shook Crews' and with a nod offered a seat. "Clyde Anderich, and you are Detective Crews?"

Charlie nodded, his eyes scanning the man before him, noting the slight tension in his body and voice.

"You want to know about Emerich Hall I believe?"

"There's been an incident at the house," Charlie stated obliquely. They'd managed to keep the possible murders quiet so far, and he didn't think Anderich would know about the bodies as yet. "We are trying to get a background on the place. It seems to have changed hands quite frequently."

Anderich nodded slowly. "It's a strange place. When we first moved in it was all that we had wanted. The kids loved it; so many hiding places, great space and the gardens were just what my wife had been looking for. It had been empty for a while, so we decided to do some decorating, bring it up to date." The man stopped, a frown marring his perfectly tanned brow.

"Did something happen then?" Charlie prompted.

"There was… an accident on the first day the decorators were in. The painters were to start in the ballroom. We had a large function going to happen the following month and the ballroom seemed the ideal place to hold it, you know? Well they got the ladders set up, but before they even got to put paint on the walls the painter fell from the ladder and was seriously hurt. After that we had trouble just getting the decorators to come in to the house. They claimed that the workman had been pushed and none of them were willing to come back. Utter nonsense of course. There was no one in the room with him, he'd just been careless."

From the corner of his eye, Charlie caught a hint of movement at the open French doors. A small face was peering round and obviously watching them. He kept quiet about the eavesdropper, but pitched his voice a little further.

"And that was the only incident? No more unusual occurrences whilst you lived there?"

Anderich shrugged. "The kids thought we had a ghost that summer. They spent all their time looking for secret passages and priests holes. Though why they thought a house built in the thirties would have such things I don't know. Probably watching the old English movies my wife likes so much – you know, the old swashbucklers; smugglers and priest's holes."

"Ah, so no ghost then." Charlie put an edge of regret into his voice, and was amused at his host's obvious confusion.

"There so was a ghost! Tommy and I saw it one night, in the ballroom. It was all white and scary and Tommy wet himself, but I didn't." The young girl had edged into the room and was standing, half defiant watching her father.

"Kat, what are you doing here? Go back outside and play with your brother, you're interrupting us."

"Oh no, that's fine Mr Anderich," Charlie said, and then turned his attention to the moppet who now was staring at him.

"Hello Kat, I'm Charlie, how do you do?" and he stuck out his hand in a gesture of welcome.

Kids liked Charlie, whether it was the twinkling eyes or the infectious grin, or the sometimes childlike quality he brought to new sensations, kids gravitated toward him. Kat was no different. She skipped over to him, grabbed his hand and looked in awe at the badge on his belt. "Are you a policeman?" she asked in an excited voice.

"A detective," Charlie whispered back with a grin.

"Are you detecting our ghost? I don't think she meant to knock the man off the ladder you know, but she didn't want pink paint on the walls."

Charlie thought about the glorious gold and yellow room and found his sympathies with the ghost. "So tell me, Miss Kat," the little girl giggled, "you actually saw the ghost?"

She nodded. "In the ballroom. We weren't supposed to be up, but Tommy…" she looked over at her father who was doing his best to keep a calm exterior.

"Tell the detective whatever you two got up to. I'm not going to tell you off now."

Charlie waggled his eyebrows at the girl, setting her giggling again. "So, ghosts?" he prompted.

"Well Tommy wanted to play in the ballroom. He'd got a pair of roller skates for his birthday and it was the best place to play with them. The room is so big, and you can't hear the noise, so mummy told us we could play there. Only it was late and he couldn't sleep and neither could I, so we went there." She cast another glance at her father.

"And that's when you saw the ghost?"

She nodded. "It was huge and white and fuzzy around the edges, not a bit like Casper." Obviously a disappointment to her.

"And how did you know it was a woman?" Charlie probed.

"I just knew," Kat said emphatically. "And we looked for her lots after that. The doors would open, but she wouldn't be there, and when we'd gone to sleep she would turn out the night light for us. And she once found my teddy for me. I'd been looking for him everywhere and when I couldn't find him I asked her and she found him right away."

"Well, that's really helpful," Charlie said, sending a big smile her way. "Thank you."

When she'd left, her father made the child's excuses.

"Oh that's okay, Mr Anderich, out of the mouths of babes. If you can think of anything that might be helpful, here's my card."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7/7

Charlie was driving to his next appointment when his phone beeped.

"Crews."

"Where are you?"

"Reese? Where are you?"

"No Crews, that's my question. Where are you?"

"Right here, Reese. Where are you?" Charlie could tell by the sudden silence that his partner was currently counting to ten and grinned.

"Crews, just tell me where the hell you are," she ground out.

"I'm in my car talking to you. Hey, Reese, who's Casper?"

"Casper? Crews you're not still on about ghosts are you?"

An image of a cute little cartoon ghost popped into Charlie's head.

"So Casper's a ghost, that's what I thought. Thanks Reese. Oh, do you like pink?" Crews thought he could hear his partner's teeth grinding for just a moment.

"You're doing this on purpose aren't you? Yes, Casper is a ghost, a 'cartoon' ghost, and no I don't like pink. Now where are you?" There was definite tension in that last line Crews thought.

"You see Reese, the ghost didn't want the ballroom walls painted pink, and yet the house is. Don't you find that strange? I've just arrived at my next interview so I'll call you back." He disconnected the phone then did a quick check to see where she'd been calling from - their office line came up. He frowned, he'd left her at her place just four hours ago expecting her to get some sleep for today at least; she'd been exhausted when he'd helped out of the car. If she hadn't been she would never have accepted his help. Damn, but it took a lot to keep that woman down.

As he got out of his car his cell rang again, but he switched it off and put it in his pocket. The address he was going to was a complete surprise. Half way along a normal LA street stood a Buddhist temple, looking as though it had been transplanted from the depths of the Chinese countryside.

Charlie stared at the open doors and knew he should leave his frustrations and anger outside on the street. He'd meditated in prison to some small degree, but since getting out he'd let the practice slip somewhat. It was hard to give up all that tempered him and seek nothingness.

The scent of candles greeted him as he stepped into the softly lit interior. For a moment he just stood with his eyes closed letting the calm settle into his soul. He could be quiet here and just be. He wished Dani had been with him, if she could feel what he was experiencing right now it would heal so many wounds. Maybe he would bring her another time, when she was more receptive.

"Hello, may I help you?"

The soft voice brought Charlie back and he turned to face the man who had managed to approach him without him being aware. He was tall and gaunt, dressed in a white robe and the traditional shaved head. But what caught Charlie's attention were the deep blue eyes that watched him with gentle inquiry.

"Mr Bright? I'm detective Reese."

"Call me Peter, please."

"Thank you. I called you this morning?"

"Ah, yes. You want to talk about Emerich Hall. Why don't I show you around the temple while we talk? What do you want to know, detective?"

Charlie gave the monk the same story he'd told his first interviewee. "I wonder if you could tell me something about the history of the house, and why you sold it?"

Peter gave him a soft smile. "That is not what you truly seek is it detective?"

"Actually, yes it is," Charlie replied.

"Very well," he dipped his head slightly. "I used to be a very successful entrepreneur some twenty years ago. Emerich Hall was a whim. I'd been a fan of the old movies, knew the story of the house and the owners. I admit that I was quite fascinated with owning a house that had seen such tragedy. Something that even now I cannot explain. The day I went to view the place I had just broken up with a long time partner, I wanted something new, something to give me an interest beyond my own emotions. Renovating the house seemed a good project. And as I walked into that massive hall I felt that I had come home."

They walked out into the garden where the monk stopped. "I never did decorate the place, it seemed wrong somehow. And then I was seriously ill. They thought that I would die and I turned my thoughts inwards, almost disastrously so, until a friend introduced me to Zen and Buddhism. And from that moment the house was no longer needed. I sold it and gave the money away to as many charities as I could. I applied to this temple and was accepted."

The garden was laid out with perfect precision. Glorious deep sweeps in the grey sand, the careful placement of smooth stones – a trickle of water near a stand of bamboo. Charlie could feel himself relaxing.

"This may seem a strange question, but did you ever think the house was haunted?"

"Oh yes," Peter replied with a serene smile. "Stay as long as you like, detective. I think you will find some answers at least."

Charlie watched him leave, wondering what answers he was supposed to be looking for. The monk certainly hadn't meant the bodies at the house.

There was a bench set along the furthest wall, close to where the water bubbled out between smooth rocks. Charlie went and sat down, leaning his head back against the wall and let the quiet enter him, allowing his mind to wander through all they knew, all they speculated about. Gradually his thoughts turned to his partner and his feelings for her. What could he do, what could he say that might let them be together? He knew it was right, he felt it deep inside, that connection that would tie them together forever if she would just let him in.

'If you love, love openly'

He had forgotten that parable. Maybe it was being here in the temple that had brought it back to him, the story of one man's love for a woman and his sneaking notes to her – and her rejection because he had not been open. Would that work for him and Dani? Dare he try to tell her just how he felt? He sighed, maybe that was the answer Peter had meant him to find when he sent him to meditate.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N As chapters 7/8 are quite short I'll post them both today.

Chapter 8/17

Dani frowned down at the now dead receiver. Crews had just put the phone down on her! She redialled, ready to tell him just what she thought of being cut off so abruptly, but her call went straight to voice mail. Damn the man. And what was all this talk about pink, and Casper? Sometimes she truly thought her partner had a screw loose.

"Detective Reese, what are you doing here?"

Tidwell was crossing the room. He'd not been in his office when she'd arrived twenty minutes before, but now he was aimed right at her.

"What was I going to do at home? There's work I can do at my desk; I don't have to be running down criminals all the time do I?"

He stood before her, anxious eyes scanning her features. "You're meant to be at home recovering," he said decisively.

She shrugged. "That the autopsy report?"

Tidwell sighed, he never got anywhere with her when she was like this. He threw the file on her desk. "Knock yourself out. The stiff in the basement may have been an aided suicide. Poor bastard was riddle with cancer; they're trying to track down who he is via medical records, but it could take a while. The woman; still no cause of death but the ME isn't giving up yet."

He sat himself in Crews' chair and looked over at Dani Reese, catching her slight frown and interpreting it correctly. "It doesn't have his name on it you know," he said, a trace of anger in his tone. Every day since Dani's rescue he'd felt her slowly slipping away – and he didn't know how to stop her disappearing on him.

"That's… of course it doesn't. I wasn't thinking that."

Like hell, Tidwell thought, though he kept it to himself. "Where is he, anyway? I was expecting him out at the Hall. They've gone over the place top to bottom, nothing, nada. Oh, and the fuses were in place, so either you had one very quick perp or maybe the place is haunted!"

Tidwell hadn't meant to be taken seriously when he mentioned a haunting, and was puzzled by Reese's sudden shake of her head and the muttered, "must be catching."

The phone on her desk rang, giving Dani an excuse to cut off the question she could see hovering on the captain's lips.

* * *

Charlie slid back into his car and sat staring at the temple, then slowly shook his head. "Can't do it, sorry. Well, I could, but I won't chance it, not yet. Maybe later, okay?" He paused, looking at himself in the rear view mirror. "Gotta stop talking to yourself, Charlie."

Driving back, he spotted a bookshop window full of tourist bait. Big splashy coffee table books of old black and white movie stars; guide-books to the houses of the rich and famous; behind the scenes exposés of the current media darlings and the fold away maps that guided the unwary to all the most expensive places to spend their tourist dollars. Charlie pulled up and got out of the car, gazed intently at the display, then entered the slightly dingy interior. Browsing the shelves, he finally found what he was looking for. With a cheery grin, he handed over his $19.95 and slipped back into his car feeling very pleased with himself.

His last visit was to a Chantelle Dubois, an old Hollywood movie star from the forties and fifties who lived in virtual seclusion in her home just the other side of the hill to Emerich Hall. Charlie remembered her from movies he'd seen as a kid. His mother had loved the big extravaganza musicals and their stars; Chantelle Dubois was one of the most notorious of her day. Her private life was as large as her career, hitting the headlines regularly, her name linked with mobsters and producers, captains of industry and politicians. Charlie was going to see a true legend - but not just that minute. Checking his watch he still had a good hour to go, and it would only take about twenty minutes to reach his destination.

He drove to the nearest park, grabbed the bag of grapes that was sitting on his console, picked up his purchase from the bookstore and headed to a secluded bench that looked out across the kids playground. From behind his polarised lenses he watched the youngsters run and chase, climb and swing, totally engrossed in their own worlds. Though prison had taken a lot from Charlie, he had to admit that it had also given him the ability to enjoy everything that was now offered to him. The sun above him, the sound of laughter drifting across from the playground, the wild flowers growing up through the longer grass around the trees. He finally appreciated _life_ as it should be.

Popping a grape in his mouth, Charlie flipped open the book. Hollywood Haunts was a collection of stories about the famous and not so famous haunted buildings of Hollywood and its surrounding area. He'd picked this one because they had gone to the trouble of not only printing the address, but also a photo of each place. Some also had accompanying pictures of the stars that allegedly haunted Hollywood on a regular basis.

The photo of Emerich Hall was in black and white. With its turrets piercing an overcast sky, it looked like a Gothic horror movie set designed by Hitchcock. Or maybe Hitchcock had seen this place and taken inspiration. Beside the photo was a grainy black and white image of the great Veronica Hall. Not the best picture to be sure, but she was as glamorous as any star could wish to be, her hair a wave of blonde down an elegantly clad voluptuous body. Charlie pursed his lips in appreciation, then moved to the entry and began to read.

//The ghost of Veronica Hall is said to haunt the fabulous ballroom designed by her eminent director husband Stanley Emerich. The ballroom was the scene of many a society triumph and ultimately the actress's demise. The last recorded sighting of Ms Hall was by another Hollywood star Ms Chantelle Dubois, who owned the house two years after the tragedy, and who was finally driven out by the ghost some six months later. No further sightings have been reported, though the house still seems to find it hard to keep tenants.//

Charlie checked his watch. Still some thirty minutes to go before he was due to see Ms Dubois. He pulled out his phone and dialled the office.

"Hey Reese, did you know that Orson Wells haunts Sweet Lady Jane's Restaurant? We'll have to go there sometime. And Marilyn Monroe haunts a mirror at the Roosevelt. I didn't know you could haunt a mirror." There was a long pause. "Reese? Are you okay?"

Dani had leaned forward to rest her head on the desk in an attitude of defeat. "Yes, Crews, I'm fine," she muttered.

"Reese?"

"Yes."

Serious now, Charlie said, "Take some aspirin. I'll be back in the office in about an hour or so. We'll catch up then, okay?"

With one hand, Dani slid the phone back onto its stand and left her head on the desk. God she was tired, and her head was pounding, her back hurt, her ankle hurt and damn Charlie for making her think about that all over again. Groaning she raised her head to find Tidwell looking at her anxiously. "Got any aspirin, captain?"


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9/17

The house was not nearly as large as Emerich Hall, but it was a violent shade of pink. Crews was glad of his shades again as he stepped out of his car and made his way up to the front door. The combination of glass and candy pink was hard on the retinas in the bright California sunshine.

The man who opened the door must have been eighty if he was a day. He was the epitome of what a butler should be and seemed to be more of a movie extra than a real person.

If the butler was eighty, the woman who was ensconced in a large pink chair in the massive living room was at least ninety. Though her skin was wrinkled, and her eyes pale with age, she was still fully made up, from a rather overdone pink blusher, to a dark pink lipstick. She looked like a caricature, slightly overdone and unreal – as was the room. Everything was pink, from the carpets to the chairs, to the tight dress that would have been too young for a woman a quarter her age.

"Ms Dubois?"

She held out a gracious hand, and Charlie found himself bowing over it like a gallant from one of her old movies.

"Detective Crews, how do you do? Please, take a seat." She studied him for a moment, and then chuckled softly. "My but you do clash with my room. Never wear pink my boy. Now, how can I help you?"

Charlie spent the next hour listening to the old lady relive her glory years, gleaning little that he didn't know before about the house until…

"And then of course Veronica objected to my painting the outside of the house. I mean it was so boring all that cream. I'd not touched the inside, apart from… well, you may have seen the ceiling in the entrance? I had that commissioned before I moved in. So much fun seeing my guests' faces when they realised just what those naughty cherubs were up to. And she hadn't been too pleased about that either, but it wasn't until they started on the outside that she got really mad."

Fascinated, Charlie encouraged her to continue.

Smoothing down the folds of her dress, Chantelle Dubois continued. "Veronica always had a temper. That poor husband of hers, well. She started throwing things, my things! I'd find a mirror broken, or jewellery missing. Once she'd emptied two tins of paint over the gravel drive. Really, it was beyond a joke. Took the decorators three months to finish it, and I had to pay them huge bonuses to do it. I thought once it was done she'd let go of it, but no, not Veronica. Made my life hell that woman did."

Leaning forward, she whispered, "I think she knew about me and Stan. They say once you pass over you know everything. But it was before they met you know, so I don't know why she was annoyed, not with her pedigree." The delicate lady-like sniff was spoiled somewhat by the decided twinkle in her eyes. "I don't know why one of the girls didn't take it on, but maybe it was too expensive."

"Girls?" Charlie's ears pricked.

"Oh yes, Veronica had two daughters by her first husband. She and Stanley brought them up, sent them to finishing school, the lot. Don't know what became of either of them, though, hold on, I do believe Marjorie went on to marry a banker – or was that Dorothy? Can't remember now, the brain doesn't retain as much as it used to."

The old lady was tiring, Charlie could tell. Looking quickly at his watch he made his excuses and began to leave, but not before she had twisted a promise from him to 'tell her all about it' when he could.

* * *

It was nearly six by the time he exited the elevator and strode into the office. Stopping in the doorway, he glanced over at the desks he and Dani shared. She was still there, head propped up in one hand, phone in the other, a distracted frown on her brow.

He moved quietly to his chair, put his book down on the desk, dropped onto the seat and suddenly skidded it around to her side.

"Hot lead?"

She jumped, dropping the phone giving out a small groan as her head suddenly pounded harder.

"Jerk!"

Charlie swung her chair around to face him, his eyes scanning her features. "Did you take the aspirin?"

Her eyes narrowed at him. "Yes," she replied reluctantly. "Three."

His hand shot out and he laid a cool palm against her forehead.

Slapping it away she said. "I'm not six, Crews. Now tell me what you've been up to."

"You're not six, but you are too warm. I'm taking you home. I'm driving by the way. You can rant at me all the way there, and then, when your tucked up in bed, I'll tell you a bedtime story all about pink paint, lost children and haunted ballrooms."

She glared at him, opened her mouth to spit out something she'd probably later regret, when he forestalled her.

"Please, Dani." His soft voice stopped her. The gentle worry in his eyes made her breath hitch. She suddenly remembered the feel of his lips on hers as they'd stood in the ballroom; the way he had kissed her at the hospital as though it was something he did every day – and, damn him, it had felt so right. But if she gave in now, what else would she have to concede to him?

He tipped his head in enquiry, almost as though he knew what she was thinking.

"I'm only taking you home, Dani. That's all."

There it was again, calling her Dani not Reese. He'd moved from work mode into the personal and it made her want to melt into him.

She cleared her throat. "Bring the autopsy reports with you, it makes interesting reading. And something just came up from forensics, you can read that to me as well."

His grin appeared, and he gathered up the reports and his book before they headed out.

* * *

Dani was quiet on the drive to her house. For once, Crews seemed content to let the silence drift between them. It was not an uncomfortable quiet; Dani's head still ached, making thinking a difficult process and Charlie's silence was soothing rather than upsetting. She caught the occasional glance he sent her way, aware that he was keeping in check any solicitous observations.

She'd not let him help her to his car when they left the precinct, and she was paying for that now. Her ankle was throbbing in time with her pulse and the thudding in her head. When they pulled up in her parking space and got out of the car, she forestalled his attempt to pick her up again. A simple, "Charlie, don't," stopped him short. Instead, he offered his arm, and she leaned against him gratefully.

The house was small but sufficient for her needs. Open plan downstairs meant that she could move from kitchen diner to living area with ease. Charlie helped her down onto one of her comfy sofas then set about easing off her shoes.

"I can do that, leave…"

"Shh," he stopped her. He grabbed a pair of cushions, putting one each end of the couch and told her to lie down. She frowned at him, began to speak and was once again shushed like a five year old.

Charlie headed to the kitchen, grabbed a couple of kitchen towels and wrapped some ice into them, forming makeshift ice packs. When he came back, Dani was still sitting upright, storm clouds in her eyes.

Almost too casually, Charlie asked, "Do you know how much time I spent in the infirmary, Dani? Too long. There's little I don't know about surviving the pain, how to make it easier - how to make that next moment bearable. Can I share that with you?"

Dani did know about all the beatings he'd taken, but she'd never really considered what it had cost him. She was struggling with a sprained ankle and a bad head, he had been beaten senseless more than once, had bones broken on numerous occasions. Yes, she'd listen.

She slid down on the couch feeling suddenly vulnerable, letting him edge one cushion under her damaged ankle. Then he pressed one icepack to the back of her neck, and the other to her ankle. Dani wasn't sure she liked either sensation, the sudden cold seemed to almost burn and she gave out a soft cry.

"Stick with it, partner. It gets better," Charlie assured her. And he was right; as the cold seeped into inflamed tissue the throbbing began to subside. He didn't leave them there for long, but the relief seemed to stay with her.

"I found a yoga technique that helped too, wanna try it?"

Charlie's eyes were gentle on hers, his voice a low, soothing, gravely rumble that made her thoughts move into uncharted territory. She nodded slowly, setting the ache off again. As though he understood what had happened, he set the ice pack to her neck once more.

"You need to relax, totally relax. Start at your toes, tense and relax, then work your way up, tense and relax, tense and relax."

Charlie's hands skimmed up her body, indicating every place he wanted her to relax. The further he got, the less relaxed she became until he chided her about her inattention. Getting drawn into Charlie was not a good idea, though right now she couldn't remember why.

"Now, imagine a beam of light leaving the centre of your forehead. Gather all the pain and send it out through that beam. Draw it up and send it out. Stay relaxed, just let it go, let it all go."

Whether it was the aspirin finally kicking in, or Charlie's makeshift icepacks, or the soft drone of his voice, Dani fell asleep. And for a while it was cosy and comforting – until she began to dream.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10/17

Charlie decided to make himself comfortable, it could be a long night.

Slipping off his shoes he made his way quietly to the kitchen table and hung his jacket carefully over the back of a chair. He loosened his tie, undid the top button of his shirt and took a relieved breath. Moments later his sleeves were rolled up and he was foraging in Dani's fridge. To his delight she had a large carton of orange juice. Not the excuse for juice that he might have expected, but the good stuff with pulp floating in it. Maybe, just maybe he was getting through to his stubborn partner. The rest of the fridge was less exciting. A few slices of bread, a small tub of spread, a tiny knob of Parmesan wrapped in greased paper and the remains of a Chinese carryout. He opened the lid cautiously then quickly closed it again before dumping the carton into the trash – some things were best not explored.

Opening cupboards, Charlie did discover a stockpile of chocolate cookies tucked behind packets of pasta and sauce mixes. He helped himself to two and a glass of juice before settling down on the sofa opposite his sleeping partner.

He picked up the first file and flicked it open. It was the autopsy report on the victim found hanging in the basement. It made for uncomfortable reading, the stark details raising unwanted images in his head. He'd get Dani to shoot him before he got to that stage. The victim was a male between forty-five and fifty, a slight 140 pounds spread across his five foot ten frame. Carcinomas riddled his body, though the original point of infection seemed to be his liver. The man hadn't had long to live. They currently had a search out for who might have been treating him, as there were indications that medication was being taken and that radiotherapy had been tried. Charlie closed the jacket and picked up the report on the unknown woman. Basically the answer was - they just didn't know what she had died of. Heart failure seemed the most likely cause, but from what, the Coroner couldn't say with any certainty. A severe shock might have been the reason, but he would not swear to that in court. Crews had to wonder whether the finding of the male hanging from the ceiling might have been behind the attack or if the ghost had literally scared the woman to death.

He checked on Dani again, his hand on her forehead checking her temperature – she was considerably cooler. He carefully moved one errant strand of hair away from her face, and a gentle smile lightened his features. Picking up Haunted Hollywood, he returned to his seat and began to read - whiling away the time until she woke.

Charlie had turned his phone to silent and suddenly felt the vibration go off in his pants pocket. He pulled it out, sending a quick glance over to Reese who seemed to be still asleep. The text message told him to check his emails. He logged in and scanned down the list for the latest one from the department. They'd tracked down the victim.

As he scanned the report warning bells rang in Charlie's head. He recognised the name – Eric Hartman; the woman they expected to identify as his wife Eleanor. Background checks were under way, but Crews already knew one thing about them – they were previous owners of Emerich Hall and were supposedly touring Europe at that moment.

His attention quickly shifted to the other sofa – Reese was mumbling in her sleep, her body restless. The cushion under her foot slid to the floor as she kicked out. Charlie abandoned his sofa and came onto his knees beside her, hand reaching out to calm her.

Suddenly she shot upright, swinging her feet to the ground. Her eyes were wide with what looked like fear as she searched Charlie's face. "Charlie!"

"Right here …"

She flung herself forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, holding on tightly. Charlie wrapped himself around her, his heart pounding at the unexpectedness of her actions and the fearful response it caused him.

* * *

Dani came to awareness slowly and with a sense of panic she hadn't lived through for a long time. Darkness surrounded her with a completeness that was terrifying. No light reached her, sounds were so muffled as to be almost unintelligible and she could barely breath.

There was a bag over her head.

Pain emanated from various points around her body. Her ankles were almost numb where she could feel rope wrapped around them, her hands and wrists felt grazed, bruised. She thought maybe she had a broken rib as each slight inhalation caused a stabbing in her left side. The smell of stale blood permeated the air and she cautiously slid her tongue against her lip. The metallic tang told her that the lip was split and still bleeding. She only vaguely remembered being tied to the chair, but the memory of Nevikov's backhander still remained.

She hadn't come quietly and was pretty sure that she'd done damage to at least two of the five-man team the Russian had sent to grab her. But she'd paid for that resistance and had been only minimally aware of being bundled into the back of the van, her head spinning, nausea threatening to make her spew her guts across the metal floor. Now all she could think of was how she could possibly get out of this. How could she spin the time out until her partner could find her, because he would – there was no doubt in her mind that Charlie Crews was already looking for her. She had got into the habit of phoning him every day and it must be late by now, Charlie would be looking for her. She slowly inhaled, 'just breathe', he'd said, so she would. She would take each moment as it came, wait for an opportunity to arise and if it didn't she would put her faith in Crews.

This was the point Dani usually woke up - today it took a different turn. It was no longer Dani tied to that chair but Charlie. It wasn't just a split lip and a broken rib, but razor slashes, broken bones and blood, lots and lots of blood. And it wasn't Crews searching for her, but Reese trying to find him – and failing. In her dream she had come crashing into that cellar to find Charlie dying, his body slumped like a rag doll on the damned chair. Too much damage done, the medics too far away, nothing she could do to save him - Crews whispering her name with his dying breath.

She bolted upright, wrenching herself from the nightmare and calling his name – and then she was in his arms, holding him tightly, determined to never let him go. He felt warm and solid – and alive. The expensive cologne she associated with him seemed to wrap itself around her, every sense confirming she was embracing Charlie Crews.

She was embracing Charlie Crews! Oh God, what had she done?

* * *

Charlie felt it the moment she realised what she was doing, who she was embracing and beginning to pull back. But this time he was not willing to let go. This time he would tell her how much he wanted her, _needed_ her to make him complete. This time he would not let her turn away from him.

"Don't, Dani. Don't run." He let her retreat just far enough that their eyes could meet. Hers panicked - his intense. His hand moved up to cup her cheek, thumb caressing gently across her soft skin as his eyes drifted to her parted lips then back to meet her gaze. He had to tell her, he had to, but he wasn't sure he had the right words to break through her barriers.

His voice grew lower, more intense. "I don't know what to say to you, how to make you understand how I feel. I could tell you I love you, but I'm not sure you would believe me – would you believe me, Dani? Would you understand how hard it is to be this close to you and not kiss you the way I've wanted to kiss you for the past few weeks. To sit beside you in the car and not reach out to touch you. To be able to truly share my thoughts with you and hope you'll let me hear yours. Do you know how hard that is, Dani?"

She turned away from his intense gaze and Charlie felt his heart plummet. He'd said too much too soon. But the feelings he held for her had been bubbling away inside him, begging to be let out and he hadn't been able to contain it any longer.

"Dani, please. You must know how much I need you. You let me kiss you - didn't you feel it between us? I know, you probably think I just want to take you to bed, and I do, but that's not what this is about. I love the way you look, yes, but I love your spirit, your determination. I love the way your eyes flash when you're angry and the softness you show when your compassion shines through. I want to know everything about you Dani Reese – I want to share everything with you. I want all of you and I want to give you all of me."

He realised he was babbling and took a deep breath, making himself be still.

His hard-assed partner was trembling under his touch, her eyes averted from his so that he was unable to tell if it was anger or something else. He held his breath and waited, inviting her to come to him, to love him as he did her.

The wait was interminable and Charlie thought he'd made the biggest mistake of his life until she turned back to him, eyes still stormy but her equilibrium restored.

"Charlie, shut up and kiss me," she demanded, then closed the gap between them, her lips demanding.

They didn't make it off the sofa the first time; clothes were wrenched aside as they fought to get closer to one another, there was nothing even remotely romantic about this coupling and yet Charlie didn't feel anything beyond elation. By the time they made it to the bed, clothes strewn along their path, Charlie had taken charge and slowed everything down. He wanted time to explore this gorgeous woman, time to touch and taste and send them both mad with desire – and Dani, for once, let him drive.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11/17

It was hours later, with both of them half asleep, that Dani had her epiphany. She loved Charlie Crews. It hadn't just been an assuagement of her lust, or of his. They hadn't just had sex, but had made love. Love! Dani had never given herself quite that way before; it had always been about need and want and hunger, and never mind who her bedmate might be. This had been so different, the giving and taking of pleasure a mutual driving force. She had felt connected to Charlie on every level. She hadn't felt vulnerable or used, but cherished – adored…loved.

She lay pressed up against his side, one leg trapping his, her head on his shoulder and her fingers sliding through the crisp hairs on his chest. She couldn't seem to stop touching him now that she'd finally given up and given in. His heart beat with a steady rhythm under her hand, his breathing was slowly getting back to normal though she could still illicit the odd hitch as her hand moved in daring forays across sensitive skin. Dani tucked herself closer and began to talk softly, thankful for the shadows.

"I was terrified that you wouldn't find me in time. I knew you'd be looking, Charlie, I never doubted that, but I was so damned scared it would be too late."

Charlie's arm tightened around her, but he let her speak – she needed to talk, every captive does.

"And I feel such a fool for letting them get to me in the first place. The FBI tried to turn me against you, showed me things I didn't want to believe, things I knew deep down you had good reasons for. But it's so hard, Charlie, so bloody hard to put aside everything I'd had drummed into me since I was a kid. And then Nevikov's goons got their hands on me and I wanted to lash out at everyone for making me doubt you." She turned her gaze up to his and found nothing but understanding.

"I saw the pictures of you on that boat and I had doubts too," Charlie replied. "Not for long; even then I thought I knew you well enough to trust you. They beat you down, Dani, day after day, doubt after doubt until you can barely remember your own name let alone tell right from wrong. And you hate yourself for doubting, but you do anyway."

She nodded then turned her gaze away from his again before continuing. "When I found myself tied to that chair, when I realised who had me," she shuddered and Charlie brought her even closer, his hand running gently up and down her side. "And the darkness… it was all I could do to not start screaming."

Charlie knew it was the loss of confidence that had caught her unawares; no matter the cause, his partner needed to always feel in control.

"But you didn't, did you," Charlie stated, knowing he was right.

"No, I didn't," she replied quietly. "But I wanted too. God, Charlie, I wanted to."

Charlie thought it was only fair to trade war stories.

"I spent a lot of time in the prison infirmary over the first few years I was in the Pen, there were times that I seriously thought about ending it there and then. I would be terrified to walk out into the yard, jumped at my own shadow if I was alone in a room. It took me a long time to turn it around. Zen made my life bearable, and then I toughened up. Took my life back – hit back, until I earned some respect. It was a hard road and I fell a lot on the way; don't think badly of yourself sweetheart, the only thing that matters is surviving however you can, whatever the cost."

"That's not very Zen?"

His hand stilled though his voice remained controlled.

"I'm only Zen'ish, Dani."

Dani had noted the scars that adorned Charlie's body, had kissed and caressed them but hadn't asked questions. She still wouldn't, they were in the past and she didn't want Charlie reliving it again, she wanted him happy.

Reaching up, she pulled his head down to kiss him, letting him change the pace to suit himself, trying to drown both their memories in new, more pleasurable ones. She slid on top of him, pinning him to the bed and he let her take control.

* * *

Charlie woke alone. He knew, without opening his eyes, that Dani was not beside him, even so he stretched out one searching hand and found just cold sheets. He opened his eyes and stared for a moment at the ceiling, then sighed and got out of bed. From the kitchen he could smell coffee percolating so he headed to the bathroom, made use of the facilities, splashed water on his face and ran a hand over his chin. He didn't think Dani would object to his morning stubble, but he knew from bitter experience that you do not borrow your partner's razor.

Dani must have tidied up; his clothes were neatly folded on a chair, pants, shirt, underwear and his shoes tucked underneath, though his jacket and tie must still be downstairs. He dressed quickly and made his way to where Dani sat at the kitchen table. From where he stood he could see that she hadn't yet dressed. A tatty bathrobe swathed her slight figure, her hair was still un-brushed and her hands were wrapped around the cup of coffee that she stared at so intently. Charlie felt a cold knot form in his gut. He knew his partner, could read her body language pretty well by now; this didn't look like a good day.

Charlie forced a smile to his face and good humour into his voice, before circling behind her, moving her hair to one side so that he could kiss the soft skin of her neck. "Good morning, sweetheart."

"Charlie, don't."

"Don't what? Don't wish you a good morning? Don't call you sweetheart? Don't what, Dani?"

She got up from the table and headed to the sink; Charlie followed, trapping her with his arms. Dani ignored him, put her cup in the sink and turned the water on.

"Don't what, Dani?" Charlie persisted.

"This is never going to work," she said softly.

Charlie felt the cold begin to spread. "What isn't going to work? You and me? You haven't even given us a try. We've spent one night together, and don't tell me that wasn't perfect, because it was –at least for me."

He felt her taking deep breaths, and waited.

"You'll want more than a night in the sack and, great as it was, I can't give you more. I… I've never been able to give more – if I try it goes wrong. It won't be your fault, Charlie, but it will go wrong and we'll both be hurt, and I don't need that, I really don't."

Charlie turned her around so that he could see her face.

He could hear his cell phone ringing from the coffee table, but he ignored it, staring intently at his partner until it switched to voice mail.

"You should have answered that, it might be urgent."

Dani tried to deflect his focus, but Charlie had too much at stake to be diverted.

"It can wait," he replied.

Then Dani's phone rang – "That's Tidwell," she said quickly. "I guess he's wondering where we are."

"Let him. Dani…"

She tried to push past him, but he stayed where he was.

"Don't make me hurt you, Crews," she threatened.

His eyes searched hers, not liking the determination that he saw there. The cold spread further until he thought he would never be warm again. If he kept pushing now, he might never get through the walls she would put up. A strategic retreat was called for, however much he hated leaving her. He pulled back, letting her go. "You already have," he said quietly.

She turned and stared at him. "That's not fair, I'm trying to do the right thing here, Charlie."

"Life isn't fair. And as told you last night, I've learned to hit back. I also learned never to give up. This isn't over, Dani. I'm not giving up on us, even if you already have."

Charlie walked to the door, slipping into his jacket and collecting his tie, and let himself quietly out of the house.

Dani gazed after him. Damn him, she was doing the right thing. She'd never made any relationship work beyond the physical. She just couldn't seem to let anyone close – a hint of emotional attachment and she shut down. Last night had been a revelation to her, a memory she wanted to keep forever - and just knowing how special it had been made her all the more certain that being with Charlie Crews would bring her nothing but heartbreak. He might not think he wanted anyone else right now, but he didn't know her the way he thought he did.

She stared blankly at the closed door, half expecting him to return, to try and change her mind. It wasn't until she went to pick up the phone that she realised she was shaking.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12/17

It was a grim faced Charlie Crews that drove home that morning. Thankfully the traffic was comparatively light, because his attention certainly wasn't on the cars around him. He was angry, really angry – he could feel it churning around inside of him looking for an outlet. And damn him for a fool, but it wasn't Dani that incurred his wrath, it was totally self-directed.

Hadn't he been putting off telling her how he felt? Hadn't he tried to stop himself from blurting out how he much he loved her? But no, he had to drown her in his emotions, swamp her under a tide of self-delusional outpourings. She didn't feel anything for him beyond a brief carnal urge that needed scratching.

By the time he got home and was in the shower, Charlie was feeling about as low as he could get. He stepped out into the steamy room and stood before the mirror. He wiped a clear space and stared at his reflection. What did other women see in him that Dani couldn't? He was no Adonis, but he had a good enough face. No hideous scars marked his regular features, he had the odd freckle but that came with the hair. Was it the hair? She seemed to like it well enough last night when she grabbed a handful to keep his face buried in her warmth, his mouth… He shook his head; no it wasn't his hair or his body that was the problem. He may not have a six-pack, but he was built on strong, lean lines with not an ounce of extraneous fat, and she'd been appreciative in her explorations of him. Well then, was it the runaway mouth that he couldn't control? Again he came back to his sudden declaration – but she had let him make love to her, and he had thought she was with him all the way. It had not been just sex, he was sure of that if nothing else. So, was she telling the truth when she claimed she couldn't give him what he wanted? Didn't she realise that he would take whatever she was willing to give, his pride be damned?

He dressed slowly, ignoring his rows of suits and instead putting on a lightweight pair of chinos, a loose fitting tee and scuffed up sneakers. He needed time to think, time away from work and Dani; time to just listen to his own thoughts. He ran a hand over the stubble he hadn't bothered to remove – where he was heading, it seemed more appropriate than his usual clean-shaven, well-groomed look.

Downstairs he grabbed an apple and went outside to stand and stare into the canyon. The pool lay behind him; shrubbery and the usual evergreen plants were set off to one side in a garden that he never used. As he gazed around, it came to him that he could have all that unappreciated greenery removed and a meditation garden in its place. He could come out here and just let his thoughts become still.

Still.

'To a still mind, even the Universe surrenders'.

Could he do that? Could he give her the space, the stillness to surrender? But he didn't want her surrender, he wanted them to be equals in everything – but maybe surrender had to come first, as he had surrendered to her a long time ago without even realising it.

Charlie went back in to pick up his car keys and find his cell. The keys were on the side where he had left them earlier, his cell was nowhere in sight. Then he remembered, it had rung at Dani's place and he had forgotten to pick it up when he left. It was probably sitting on her table, or it had vibrated itself onto the floor, either way he wasn't going back for it today. Today, he was off the clock. What could they do to him, dock his pay?

He took Ted's car, it was less conspicuous than his shiny new Maserati. He needed to replace his knife; the one he'd given Dani was locked up in evidence somewhere - probably never to be returned. Charlie missed knowing it was to hand, just in case. And he shouldn't take his gun, at least not when he wasn't also packing his badge – where he was heading a badge could get him killed.

Charlie had no particular place in mind, but he'd dressed down for a reason. He needed to challenge himself, to get his adrenalin racing again – to put himself in danger. It was part of the reason he had insisted he went back on the force, though the main one had been to make use of what inside knowledge he could gather to track down the men who had framed him. But whilst he'd been in prison there had been times when he been almost dead inside; times when only the knowledge that his life could be forfeit had the ability to set his pulse racing again. He knew it was a contradiction to all he had learned about Zen, but sometimes letting the world turn alone wasn't enough for him any more.

He parked Ted's car and strolled into one of the roughest areas in LA. An area he knew pretty well from his days riding a car with Bobby. Turnover here was high and it was unlikely that any of the perps he'd had dealings with back then would still be alive – everyone knew that going to jail almost always prolonged your life if you lived or worked these streets. Picking a dingy looking store, Charlie went looking for a new knife - and peace of mind. The one he chose had a wickedly sharp four-inch retractable blade. There was no need for longer, you could do as much damage with this as a six inch, and it handled much easier. The handle fit snugly into his palm, feeling warm against his skin.

When he came out, he watched a patrol car speed through on a call - and he wondered what Dani was doing right then? Probably back at her desk doing paperwork and not thinking about him.

As he reached the car, he felt more than heard the approach of someone behind him. Charlie's sudden turn, knife in hand, obviously took the youth by surprise – he stopped and stared at the blade glinting in the morning sunlight.

"Hey, dude, ain't no call for that!"

Charlie didn't change his stance. He'd learned to use his blade with deadly accuracy but he also knew that the threat could be as useful as the act.

"Forecast is for sunny weather tomorrow, you wanna see it you'd better back off right now," Charlie spoke with soft clarity.

The boy flipped Charlie the finger, sucked his teeth and turned to swagger away with apparent unconcern. Crews felt his heart rate begin to slow, and he quickly slid behind the wheel. Brief as the encounter had been, he knew that a life could have been lost in those few seconds.

He drove without any destination in mind, but wasn't so surprised to find himself on the road that led up to Emerich Hall. Something about the place drew him, not just because of the bodies that they had found, or the attack on Dani, but the house itself was a mystery just waiting to be solved and if he could discover anything that might help the two cases, well, he'd be justified in breaking in yet again. Beyond that, well, he just felt drawn to the place.

* * *

Charlie would have been only partly right, Dani was at her desk but she was thinking about him. It was nearly the end of the shift and he hadn't put in an appearance. She wasn't worried, of course not, but he'd seemed suddenly fragile that morning as she turned him out. Charlie was tough, he'd survived twelve years in one of the worst prisons in the country - surely she wasn't going to be the one to break him? Hell, she should never have kissed him; never encouraged him to tell her he loved her. But she hadn't been able to stop him because she had wanted to hear it, wanted to see that look in his eyes, hear the gentleness in his voice. She only just heard Tidwell as he sat in Charlie's chair –again.

"Detective Reese, your partner seems to have gone missing, any idea where he might be?"

Tidwell's tone bordered on the sarcastic.

She bristled. "I'm not his keeper despite what the department wants. Why would I know where his is?"

The captain leaned back in the chair. "He did take you home last night, didn't he?"

"You know he did. And he left again. I don't know where he is, but Detective Crews is probably out on a lead."

"Without telling you, or checking in with me first? I don't think so. What happened last night, Dani?"

She mirrored his relaxed pose and sat back in her chair. "Detective Crews drove me home. Detective Crews left. End of story. I didn't ask him where he was going, I didn't ask him what he had planned – I - don't – know – where – he – is."

Tidwell gave up his posturing and leaned across the desk. "Look, Dani, I don't know what's been going on between you two and I haven't asked, but he's a good cop and he wouldn't just take off, right? So I've been phoning his cell and just getting the voice mail, the house number doesn't pick up either. A patrol car was up that way and I got them to drop by, his car's there but he's not. Is there something 'personal' that he's into, something I should know about?"

Dani thought about Charlie's hunt for the men who'd set him up, but shook her head. She really didn't think he'd take off and deal with that – there was no urgency right now. And she knew the department had been trying to reach Charlie as his phone was even now sitting in her pocket waiting for her to return it to him and had been vibrating against her hip on and off all day.

Tidwell let out a sigh, frustrated. He cast a furtive glance around the office space, checking if anyone was monitoring the conversation. "Dani, you wanna come over tonight? I'll cook us something nice, I can help you with your exam prep – you are still going for that, right?"

She shook her head, avoiding his gaze. "Thanks, but no. I've got things to do tonight."

He stared at her a moment longer; already certain of her answer he stood up and said quietly, "Is it over with us?"

Dani glanced up at him, aware that they were not alone but that she had to be honest. "Yeah, it is. I'm sorry, really sorry – I just can't do this right now."

For a brief moment Tidwell's face showed his pain, but he nodded and walked away. In that moment, Dani appreciated him more than any other time in their relationship.

The next moment, Dani's thoughts were back on her partner. Where was he, was he in trouble? She didn't even know where to start looking – and then she remembered his promising to tell her the story of the pink paint and haunted ballroom. Would he have gone back to Emerich Hall? It might be worth the drive up. She'd bandaged her ankle that morning and it had been uncomfortable but not too painful. She could make the drive up there and just check it out. It wouldn't be long before the sun went down, if she left it much later the drive wouldn't be pleasant, but if he were there, if he was in trouble, she had to go.

Grabbing her keys, Dani left as fast as her ankle allowed.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13/17

Charlie drove through the big gates and stopped the car a few yards up the drive. He waited until they had closed behind him, then got out and stood under the green canopy. He decided to walk up, get a feel for the grounds before going through the house again. He'd best take a flashlight along with him, just in case the electricity was still off and he wanted to go through the basement one more time.

Ted had a tendency to paranoia when it came to being prepared and Charlie fully expected to find anything he might need in the trunk. Pulling it open, he was faced with an array of goods – a spare can of fuel, bottles of water, a blanket, medical kit, chains for snowy weather – Charlie chuckled over those – enough packs of dried foodstuffs and survival kits to see an army through a month long blizzard, waterproofs and hiking boots, a coil of rope and, thankfully, a large flashlight plus a carton of spare batteries. Charlie checked it worked, which of course it did, and tucked the grip into the back of his waistband. For a moment he let his mind drift to what his friend might be getting up to. He'd heard nothing for a couple of weeks now, he hoped things were going well - Ted deserved some happiness.

Charlie walked slowly up the drive, enjoying the quiet, peaceful feel of the place. Although he was surrounded by trees and shrubbery he didn't feel closed in as he had feared he might. He could actually feel some of the tension ease out of his shoulders, a tension he hadn't really been aware of until that moment.

The house was just as impressive as he stepped out of the shade and into the sunshine. The pink was definitely tacky though, and he could empathise with Veronica's dislike. If he owned this place he'd paint it a subtle cream or terracotta, more in keeping with its surroundings – and suddenly he found himself looking at the house like a prospective buyer. It was big enough to give him the space he needed, quiet enough to give him privacy – but he would miss the view over the canyon that seemed to go on forever. No, much as the place called to him, he thought that over time he would begin to feel too enclosed – but still, he was so very tempted. He smiled at his fancy, and ran lightly up the steps to test the front door.

Charlie's lock picking skills were called into play again, and he let himself in with swift efficiency.

He strolled through the ground floor, checking every room. There was nothing to see. The kitchen was empty save for the built in appliances, every cupboard had been thoroughly cleaned, every surface shone. Wherever he went there were huge rooms full of light, and he found his thoughts turning again to whether he could live here. He'd not filled any of the rooms in his own home, and these rooms were much larger – maybe Dani would know how to make it a home rather than somewhere he just lived. Thinking about Dani brought the night flooding back with crystal clarity. She was beautiful inside and out, only she didn't realise it. She thought she was somehow damaged, not worthy of anyone's love and he didn't know how to get past that. It was her imperfections that had drawn him to her, the way her true soul sometimes shone through that had guided him to her side. Even when he had not known he loved her, he would still have done anything for her. Maybe it was his own damaged soul that stood in their way? God knows he'd locked enough pain away in the darkest recesses of his mind, was she afraid of that escaping? As afraid as he was on occasions? Maybe he was too much of a challenge for her, for any woman?

He was making his way up the staircase that Dani had fallen down, when his gaze caught the gouge in the wall where his knife had skidded across the surface. He ran his fingers lightly across the groove.

His eyes took on a flinty gleam - someone still had to pay for that.

The upstairs rooms were just as empty as the first time he checked them. Evidence of the crime scene techs had still to be cleared away from here, but Charlie still went through every room for himself. The view from up there was more than he had expected. The garden was long and wide, and from his position in what must be the master bedroom, he could see straight across the valley. He found himself leaning against the window frame and just drinking in the view.

Reluctantly, he dragged himself away - he would check the turrets next he decided, and made his way back down to the second floor, passing by the ballroom. Only he found himself drawn in through the open doors. He loved this room. He loved the space, the colour – the access to the terrace. It didn't bother him that there had been two deaths here, after all every house had probably seen death at some time. And they had been quiet deaths, nothing to leave a bad sense in the air. The basement, well he could live with that. He'd not felt anything bad down there and other families had not been bothered by the history, only by Veronica it seemed.

And this room held special memories for him now - Dani in his arms, swaying to an unheard tune, her lips soft under his until they had been so rudely interrupted. Charlie couldn't help but wonder how different things might have been if they'd continued that encounter. Would it have ended the same way, with Dani rejecting his love – rejecting her own feelings?

Moving out onto the terrace, Charlie stared down into the gardens, letting his eyes drift along the half-seen pathways, bringing his focus closer than he had upstairs where the distant view had held all his attention. And then he spotted a roof in the far distance. Was that a gazebo? What he could see of the roof seemed fancy enough to be a summerhouse of some sort. Taking the right hand set of steps down into the garden, he went to investigate.

It turned out that only one of the winding paths reached the building, and even then it was hidden behind high hedges of rhododendrons. There was a wrought iron gate that opened with ease, and beyond that a wilderness. Where the rest of the garden had obviously been assiduously attended to, this had been left to run riot. And at the far end stood the summerhouse. Enclosed on all sides, the front consisted of large French windows that stood open to the elements, though a deep overhang protected the interior from inclement weather. And it was furnished. Charlie could just make out a set of heavy chairs and a large sofa, the wood looked old and the upholstery not in very good condition as though forgotten about for years. A couple of steps led up to the veranda and Charlie entered, his curiosity whetted.

He didn't expect the blow that came out of the blue. His usually sharp senses had been put on hold in the mistaken belief that he was alone. A fraction before the blow hit, he started to turn, warned by the swish of air as the object descended. The world turned black in a swirl of pain and confusion.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14/17

The sensations of returning to consciousness were all too familiar to Charlie, so too was the pain from being beaten senseless. Cautiously, he tried to open his eyes, but the bright sunshine coming in through the doors blinded him. Closing them quickly, he took stock of his predicament. He was aware of pain in his wrists, and realised that he was bound to something heavy, probably one of the chairs he had seen through the open doors. He took a careful breath, testing for damage to ribs – all seemed well. Keeping his head down, Charlie once again tried to open his eyes. This time, with eyes lowered he could make out his feet, also tied to the chair, and by the looks of it, his tee shirt had been used as a makeshift rope – which explained why his torso was on display. Letting his gaze drift slowly up, Charlie realised he was not alone. A few feet away from him a pair of sneakers came into view, above which a dirty pair of jeans hanging on thin legs. A tee shirt proclaiming animal testing was murder encased a scarecrow thin torso and above that, the face of a youth scared out of his wits. The boy was maybe fifteen or sixteen? He still had a bad case of acne, his hair hung in limp rats tails, and there was only the barest hint of hair on his face. But it was the knife in the boy's hand that took Charlie's immediate attention – the knife he had bought just that morning, the blade open and gleaming. Combine a weapon and a scared, defiant youth and someone was bound to get hurt – and Charlie didn't want it to be him.

Crews was glad now that he hadn't been packing his badge, if the boy thought he'd hurt a cop he might have done something really stupid – not that this was his finest moment for sure. This was no kid from the streets, any ten year old from downtown LA would have known to just let Charlie wander around, find nothing and go again and would certainly not risk an encounter with someone who might possibly be armed.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" The boy's questions were issued in a rush, almost running his words together in his anxiety.

Charlie leaned his head back, trying to get his eyes to focus more clearly on his captor.

"My name is Charlie, and at the moment I'm tied to this chair, my head is pounding and I'm very, very uncomfortable. Don't suppose you'd see your way to untying me would you?"

His questioner's voice went up. "What are you doing here? No one's supposed to be here, no one. There's nothing to steal, nothing to see? Why are you here?"

The panic was obvious now, in the voice and the posture. Charlie chose his words carefully.

"I knew the place was empty, I just wanted a look around, that's all. I saw the roof of this place from upstairs – I hadn't found anything else, so I decided to check this out before I left." Charlie had always found it easier to sound convincing if he told the truth – well, the bits that he decided to share at least. "Is this your place?"

The boy had stood up whilst Charlie spoke and now began to pace back and forth in front of the doors, setting Charlie's head to pounding even harder as he tracked his movements. "You know, I really wish you'd sit down again, you're not doing my headache any good. Don't suppose you have a couple of aspirin on you?"

A look of contrition flitted across the youth's face and he shook his head. "I really didn't mean to…" he waved his hand in Charlie's general direction, the hand that held the knife.

"Then why did you?" Crews replied quietly.

The boy shook his head, not answering.

"Well at least tell me your name – you do have a name, right? - only it's hard to have a conversation with someone when you don't know what to call them."

There was a long hesitation, then, "It's Jason."

"Hello, Jason. I'd shake your hand, but…" Charlie nodded to where his wrists were bound to the chair. "So, what are you doing here? There's nothing in the house to live on, nothing to sell – why are you here? Are you on the run?"

If anything, the affronted look on Jason's face told Charlie he was not at the hands of a hardened criminal. Not that he'd thought that anyway, still, it was nice to know he hadn't lost all his instincts.

He received another shake of the lad's head, and mentally sighed.

"Did you really just come to see if there was anything to steal?"

Charlie shifted uncomfortably in the chair, what the hell, maybe the lad was old enough to understand. Talking - about anything - might calm the boy down. And maybe realising that he wasn't the only one hurting would drop his barriers a little. The fight with Dani had been eating at him since the morning, wanting to express itself somehow, some way. And Charlie had to get some dialogue going even if it meant exposing his own emotions. He looked out across the garden while he spoke in quiet tones.

"No, not just that. I brought my partner up here a few nights ago; beautiful house, beautiful woman, romantic evening. It went wrong pretty quickly, but I thought she was coming around to liking me a bit. She got hurt – my fault I guess."

Charlie was too wrapped up in his own thoughts to catch the guilt that flooded Jason's face in a tide of red. And now that he'd started that thought, he needed to get it out.

"I don't know if she blamed me for it – maybe not. There again, she wasn't exactly happy with me either." Charlie let a smile cross his face. "She has a bit of a temper," he added, nodding to himself, not in the least concerned about the potential for fireworks that was an integral part of her makeup.

"We made up; spectacularly I might add. She is such a glorious woman, Jason. And I made a huge mistake - I told her I loved her. How stupid was I? She threw me out this morning, trying to take the blame herself as she always does." Charlie was quiet for a moment. "I don't know how to help her past that. She puts on this act, you know? Always in control, always knowing what's right, and inside she's as fragile as you or I."

Crews turned just in time to see Jason sit himself down again, and thought he was making progress.

"So, Jason, what happens now? Are you going to keep me here for ever, kill me – or can we come to some arrangement and I get to leave here?"

"I don't know," came the soft reply.

"You'll never make a criminal, Jason, you need a plan or you'll end up one of those clowns on cable tv getting caught for the twentieth time. You really don't want to end up in jail – it's not good for your health."

Jason glanced quickly at Charlie, obviously noting the scars.

"These? Yeah, I got these in jail."

Charlie left the image to hang between them for a moment.

"Why don't you tell me why you are here, and how we both get out of this without going to jail? 'Cos let me tell you, I really don't want to go back."

Talking to the ground at his feet, Jason spoke, his tone subdued.

"This used to be my house, well, my parents. When I was a kid and we had money. Then dad got sick, real sick – we had to sell up so that he could pay the hospital bills. We moved to a tiny little place, saved money every way we could, pouring money into his treatment, and he got sicker. No matter what they did, he just got sicker."

Charlie put the pieces together rapidly. This must be the Hartman's son, who was also supposed to be in Europe.

"I wasn't supposed to know, but I overheard mom and dad talking a few months back. Dad… he'd had enough. The treatments weren't working, he didn't want to spend his last few months tied to a hospital bed with tubes stuck everywhere, no dignity to his last days. He asked mom to help him… she said no. Then a few weeks ago they told me they were going to travel across Europe, one last trip before dad couldn't do any more. They gave me the money to get down to my friend's place for a few weeks while they were away, but I knew, I just knew that wasn't what they were doing. Dad had seen the house was up for sale again – I heard him tell mom about it over breakfast right before they left. When they didn't get in touch, I came looking for them."

Jason raised his eyes to meet Charlie's.

"No one ever changes the codes on the gate, I don't know why. When I let myself in it all looked just the same. The crappy pink walls, the stupid turrets." His voice suddenly choked as though holding back tears. "I found him – too late. And mom, I couldn't…" Tears were streaming down his face, his eyes pleading with Charlie. "I couldn't leave them like that, could I? I came down here and used my cell - it's the only place on the estate that you can get a signal - and called the police. I didn't know what to do, where to go, so I stayed hidden down here. There was one policeman came around, but I hid further in the garden; he didn't look very hard."

"You did the right thing, Jason. But why didn't you let the police know you were here? It wasn't your fault, you wouldn't have been in any trouble."

Jason just shook his head. "Maybe not then, but your friend got hurt, that was my fault. I saw the lights on in the house, so I went up there and pulled the fuses. I didn't know she'd get hurt, I just wanted whoever it was to leave."

"What about the screams, was that you as well?" Charlie asked.

Jason's brow furrowed. "What screams?"

Charlie's mouth opened, then closed again, not sure what to say. If Jason hadn't heard the screams then he wasn't in the house when it happened, and if he pulled the fuses then it wasn't Jason that knocked Dani down the stairs.

"Look, Jason, why don't you untie me and let me get you out of here? My car is down near the gates, I can take you wherever you want to go – do you have family who are missing you, a friend who might take you in?"

He waited a moment.

"You don't want to stay here, do you Jason? Not here. There will be too many memories, too much heartache." Charlie's voice was softly compelling. "And what happens when the house sells and a new family move in? I think they might notice if they have a squatter at the end of the garden. Untie me, and we'll go wherever you want."

Charlie was very conscious of the evening beginning to pull in. Nights arrived quickly this time of year, and it wouldn't be long before the light would be gone.

Jason was obviously wavering; the boy was no hardened criminal after all. Charlie decided to push.

"At least put the lights on? I don't know about you, but sitting in the dark with a naked blade doesn't fill me with confidence. And," he added, almost as an afterthought, "I'm getting hungry."

Charlie knew that once such a basic idea was lodged in the subconscious, it wouldn't be long before Jason began to feel the need to eat. Hopefully he'd feel easy enough with him to untie him, or at least one hand, so that he could feed himself. Charlie just needed an opening with a free hand and his captor close enough to deal with.

The last rays of sun disappeared behind the high hedges just as Jason turned on the lights. "I've got some chips and soda, if you want?" he said, turning back to Charlie and waving the knife carelessly in his direction.

Trying not to show his distaste for such fare, Crews nodded.

What happened next was a bit of a blur. There was a shouted warning; a shot rang out and almost in slow motion Charlie saw Jason spun around, blade still in his hand and falling directly at him. There was no way he could move; his wrists and ankles were tied way too tightly, the chair was too heavy – there was no possibility of dodging the blow aiming for his chest.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15/17

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It was still light when Dani reached the Emerich estate. She punched in the gate code with such force that she chipped a nail. Swearing under her breath, she drove in and found her path blocked by an unfamiliar vehicle. Sliding her gun out of its holster, she eased out of her car and made her way cautiously toward the unknown.

A quick glance into the passenger side showed a bag of oranges, and the peel from at least two spread across the seat. She let out a soft sigh of relief - it had to be Crews, surely? Who else would be here and toting fruit!

The front door was ajar, another tick in the plus column for her partner being here. Still holding her gun at the ready, Dani took a quick tour of the house. There was no sign of disturbance, no sign of Charlie. Not realising that she was echoing Charlie's movements, she ended her search in the ballroom. Wandering out through the French doors, she found herself remembering – remembering the feel of his arms around her, the solid warmth of his body, the way she had let him close. And then there was the passion; God but that night together had been something she would never forget. She didn't think of herself as a coward, lord knows she'd faced her demons time and again, but giving herself up to Charlie? That still terrified her, almost as much as losing him from her life.

The light was almost gone now as she stared down into the garden, and then, in the distance, she saw a light go on. Still on the property, at the bottom of the garden, someone was here. Hoping it was Charlie, she ran lightly down the stairs and made her way quickly through the gloom, guided by the faint gleam that peeked through shrubbery from time to time.

A gate stood open; facing her was a summerhouse, doors open and the lights on inside. From her position she could make out the silhouette of someone standing, facing another person sat in a chair. The sound of voices carried to her in the quiet; though she could make out the tones the actual words eluded her. But one of them was definitely Charlie.

Dani crept closer and immediately spotted the youth standing over Charlie with a knife in his hand. Instinct took over, shouting a warning she ran forward, gun aimed at the perp. He turned toward her partner, knife raised and she fired.

The boy spun around and landed heavily against Charlie. Dani heard the woof of air that was suddenly expelled from her partner and saw him slump in the chair, the boy sliding down to the floor screaming.

The world suddenly seemed to be spinning slower. Dani tried to race to Charlie's side, but it felt as though she were swimming through glue.

It was her nightmare come to life. Charlie bound to a chair, blood oozing down his chest. The knife was embedded up to the hilt and she dare not remove it, but he was losing a lot of blood.

Grabbing her cell, and ignoring the whimpers from the fallen perp, she tried to dial out. Only one bar and that seemed intermittent as her cell tried to find a signal. After five tries and a lot of swearing, she got a call out to 911 and requested an ambulance and back up and a message passed to the department. Taking a quick look at the boy, she cuffed him, and left him bleeding on the floor; it was a flesh wound, high in his shoulder, he'd live – she wasn't so sure about Charlie.

Kneeling in front of him, she lifted his head. His eyes were glazed and he didn't seem to hear her when she called his name. Terror swamped her; she couldn't lose him, not now.

"Charlie? Can you hear me? Charlie?"

Her hands cupped his face, the bristles rough against her palms.

"You can't die on me, Charlie Crews. Do you hear me? You don't get to leave me like this, not now, not when I think…" Her voice faltered, then became urgent.

"I need you to love me, Charlie. I always walk away, but I don't want to, not with you. I know you won't let me go – you won't will you, Charlie? You'll love me when I'm a pain in the ass and being a bitch. You'll love me when I'm fighting the booze. I know you won't let me fall; you'll never walk away. I saw the promise in your eyes last night. No one ever cared for me like that, no one. Maybe because I wouldn't let them, but I'm willing to let you, Charlie, just don't die on me."

There was no response, his breath was getting shallower and the trickle of blood seemed endless. She had nothing with her to cut the ties that dug so cruelly into his limbs, and that fuelled her anger and her terror.

"Are you his partner?"

Dani turned her deadly gaze onto the youth. "Shut your mouth, unless you want me to finish the job."

"He talked about you, you know. Said you were 'glorious'." Though by the look on the boy's face, he would gladly have substituted terrifying.

"I said shut up," she spat at him, grateful to turn her terror into anger if only for a few seconds.

Dani closed her eyes for a moment and then turned back to Charlie. She leaned in until his head rested against her shoulder, his blood staining her blouse, her hands - her soul; caring only that she be as close as possible should the worst happen. Blaming herself for his being here in the first place. If only she hadn't been so damned cowardly that morning, if she had just let him love her as he had wanted to – as she had wanted him to if she were being honest with herself. If only…

In the distance she could hear the sound of sirens, they were close but were they close enough.

She felt a slight movement and looked down at Charlie. His lips parted and she heard the faint whisper of his voice. "Dani." Finally she gave herself up to the fear bubbling inside and let the tears fall.


	16. Chapter 16

Decided to put you all out of your misery, especially as these chapters are rather small, so here is chapter 16 and the epilogue is going up as well.

Also, my apologies in advance for the medical bits. I'm guessing and adding to the tensiong

Chapter 16/17

Charlie was six hours in surgery, four days on ventilation and kept unconscious for five days more. Dani never left the hospital. She wasn't allowed near him except for a few minutes a day, but she was adamant that she would not leave. He hated hospitals she'd said patiently to anyone who tried to get her to go home for a few hours rest, and she would not abandon him to wake up in a hospital room with strangers around him.

She had become so much a fixture that the nurses had taken it in turns to make sure she got something to eat and drink each day. They were used to distraught relatives, grieving husbands and wives, but Dani's devotion touched them all.

Charlie's phone was still in her pocket. Now and again, it would vibrate and she would take it outside to read whatever text might come in. There might be something important, something… God, there was never going to be anything more important that Charlie waking up. Though there had been one text - brief and to the point. She had purposefully not tried to get in touch with Ted, knowing from just the short association she'd had with the man, that he would more than likely fall to pieces. There was no way she could cope with his fears as well as her own. But this text would make Charlie happy, she knew, if he would just come back to her.

'She said yes' was the sum total of the message. She had smiled, genuinely happy for the man, then flicked the cell closed and returned to her vigil.

Dani was staring into her fourth cup of coffee that day when the doctor approached her.

"Ms Reese?"

Panic flared as she looked up at him. Had something happened? Please God don't let him have died!

"We're about to bring him around, I thought you might like to be there. You'll have to stand out of our way, but I think he might appreciate a friendly face when he wakes up." The smile that accompanied this statement did a lot to calm Dani's nerves.

Monitors bleeped with a reassuring regularity as the doctors injected something into the line that was inserted into Charlie's arm. Dani held her breath as the rhythm of his breathing began to change. Eyelids fluttered, his mouth opened and closed and then his eyes opened.

"Welcome back, detective. How are you feeling?" the doctor asked, one eye on the heart monitor.

Charlie's eyes gradually grew brighter as awareness seemed to creep back in. He tried to speak, but his voice was hoarse and nothing intelligible came out.

"Your throat is probably still a bit sore, we had you on a ventilator for a while."

A nurse came forward and held a cup with a straw to him, helping him to take a few sips.

He leaned back against the pillows and let his gaze roam uneasily around the room, finally reaching Dani. His face lit up, his eyes locked on hers inviting her closer.

Ignoring the medics around her, Dani came to his side, slid her hand over his on the cover and squeezed. It wasn't enough, not nearly enough. She bent forward and kissed him, his lips dry against hers. Next to the bed the heart monitor suddenly sped up.

"You are never, ever owning another knife, do you hear me Charlie Crews? Never." Then she kissed him again. "Don't ever do that to me again," she whispered in his ear.

"Love you too," he replied and his heart monitor sudden sped up again as he kissed her back.

#One last bit to go.


	17. Chapter 17

What can I say? I'm a hopeless, or should that be hopeful? Romantic(grin)

Epilogue

Three weeks later Dani drove Charlie's car up the gravel drive and stopped near the sweeping steps that fronted Emerich Hall.

Charlie eased out of his seat, taking his time. He looked a little pale, his strength wasn't back yet, but his spirit was soaring. Dani loved him! What more could he need?

His partner closed the car door and came around to stand next to him, her hand sliding into his as it had done on every available occasion. That he had also reached for her hand automatically never registered; he only knew that she was a solid lifeline keeping him grounded.

"Are you sure about this?" Dani looked up at him, eyes scanning his pale features.

"Oh yes. You?"

She nodded, a slow smile spreading across her face. Despite her initial reaction to the house and the things that had happened here, she did understand Charlie's feelings about the place. She gazed up at it now, seeing it with new eyes and a heart filled with love.

Slowly they made their way up the steps to the massive front doors. Dani dug her hand in her jeans' pocket and fished out the key. Charlie smiled down at her as she handed it to him.

The doors swung open, letting the sun flood in to light the huge hall. As they stepped inside both their eyes drifted up to the cherubs who gazed back down at them from the painted ceiling. Charlie's eyes lit up, then he pointed to one particularly naughty encounter. "That one?"

Dani shook her head. "What? Charlie, no, don't even think about it. You're barely out of the hospital!"

"You could do it to me." His eyes twinkled down at her and he was amazed to see a blush stain her cheek. He bent down and kissed her gently.

There was only so much he could manage after being confined to a bed for weeks, tubes and monitors stuck all over him. It didn't stop his rampant imagination from working overtime though. When he got his strength back, they wouldn't get out of bed for week – and for much more pleasurable reasons.

It took him a while to get up the stairs, but with Dani's help he made it with only a couple of stops. Then, hands clasped once more, they walked into the ballroom.

"You do know you're wasting your time, right?" Dani looked up at Charlie, a frown between her brows.

"Maybe, maybe not. I have to be sure there won't be any trouble from 'you know who'."

Dani snorted. Even though she loved Charlie, she still did not believe in ghosts. But, if it kept him happy… And there was a thought she never expected to have two years ago when her partner had been an annoyance at best, a pain in the ass the rest of the time.

And so she stood at his side as he spoke. - setting out his plans for the house, how he intended to paint the walls cream again, promised absolutely not to paint anything pink, no matter what the provocation. That he was intending to put a Zen garden out near the summerhouse, and he hoped she didn't mind. He rambled on for a good five minutes or more then waited.

Nothing. Not that Dani had expected anything, well, maybe half expected, something to happen – but nothing. They stood for a further ten minutes just staring out into the garden, hands clasped, listening to the silence – being still.

"Ready to go now? You need to rest up."

"I guess," Charlie replied, his gaze wandering around the room then settling on his partner. This was where it all started, their first real kiss. "Wanna dance?"

"No," she replied, and reached up to pull him down for a kiss instead.

It was a slow, leisurely kiss, the kind that makes your head spin and your body sing. Charlie pulled back reluctantly. "No screams, that has to be a good sign? Want to try it again, just to be sure?"

As they embraced Dani felt sudden warmth begin to envelope them both. It started at her back and worked its way around her like a cocoon, and from her partner's reaction, he was aware of it too. Charlie pulled back, his brows raised. "Feel that?"

She nodded, and even as she acknowledged it, the sensation was gone.

He smiled down at her, eyes dancing. "Welcome to your new home."

The End

Well done on sticking with this for so long, I do hope you enjoyed this story. If you are feeling generous, a review would be much appreciated.

Thank you to everyone who has taken time out to read and review this story. Special thanks to SilverSurf4, A. Windsor and Star jelly for sticking with this and reviewing so often. Your kind words are much appreciated and will keep me writing.

Jo Taylor


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